Gone
by minimindbender
Summary: Life is hard for Mac after Paraguay. Too hard. Rated M.
1. Prologue

_A/N: Oh dear…another story. This means I have four 'active' stories going…_Letters to Harm _is still __very__ active; _Conquering Never _and _An Unlikely Angel _will be finished, but apparently my muse has ADHD and needs to have multiple balls (stories!) in the air. Actually, I kind of suspect I have a little ADHD, inattentive type…which has gotten worse with job, kids, house…but that's neither here nor there and has nothing to do with this story. :)_

_Yet another post-Paraguay story. Crappy storyline, but what fodder for fan fiction! Go easy on our peeps here—they're under stress. _

_Someone (you know who you are) suggested that since we couldn't find a particular story, I should write it…well, I feared writing something exactly the same, so this one will take the place of it. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 1: Prologue **

_1643 Local_

_JAG Headquarters_

_Falls Church, VA_

It had taken more than a couple of months to get everything in order, but at last freedom was in sight. There had been cases to finish, an apartment to clear out, a car to sell, and travel arrangements to be made. Letters had been written…well, only three, actually—but she felt they were all equally important. The first was her letter of resignation, the second was for her Uncle Matt, to be mailed after she visited him one last time. The last, and by far the hardest to write, was her farewell to her godson, AJ Roberts. It saddened her that she wouldn't be around for the birth of AJ's little brother or sister, but, as she suspected she wouldn't be a welcome presence in the baby's life, it was probably easier to be long gone before the child entered the world.

Mac checked her watch. It was nearly time to meet with the admiral, so she logged out of her computer, stood up and straightened her uniform, and closed up her office. With her briefcase and cover in hand, she headed across the bullpen to the admiral's office, her new wristwatch digging unpleasantly into her rather pale flesh.

The timepiece that now graced her left wrist irritated her to no end. It was uncomfortable and she really didn't care for the design, the color of the band, nor the bright gold of its buckle and hands. In the quiet she could hear the second hand ticking and she feared it alone would drive her mad. She'd chuck the thing, but the problem was, ever since she'd returned from Paraguay, her time sense had been sketchy at best. After being late to more than one appointment, she'd finally bought the first watch within regulation she'd seen, in the first department store she'd passed on the way home one night.

On the way to the admiral's office, she smiled brightly at Lt. Roberts as she passed him standing at the copy machine, tossing a 'hello, Bud' at the now quite confused lieutenant. Lt. Colonel MacKenzie hadn't spoken to anyone unless it was work-related, much less smiled at anyone, in months. Mac nearly laughed at the man's expression, feeling lighter than she had since before Harm had been accused of Lt. Singer's murder. She tried not to explore these emotions too thoroughly. After all, there really was nothing to be happy about in this entire situation.

Petty Officer Jennifer Coates greeted her as she walked into the admiral's anteroom. Her 'the admiral is waiting for you, ma'am' was said with barely concealed disgust, but for once Mac didn't let it bother her. She smiled at the young petty officer in the same manner she'd smiled at Lt. Roberts, her smile widening when she noted Jen's eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was sure that the younger woman was wondering what the colonel was up to, or maybe she was wondering if Lt. Colonel MacKenzie was intoxicated or high on something. Once again, Mac had to hold back a laugh as she thanked Jen and pulled open the door to Admiral Chegwidden's inner sanctum.

The meeting did not take long. The admiral read her letter of resignation, sighed, and told her that this time he would have to process it immediately. This wasn't the same situation as when she left to join Dalton Lowne in private practice. Admiral Chegwidden hadn't wanted her to leave at the time and had held onto her resignation in hopes Mac would come to her senses. This time, it was clear he was as relieved by her resignation as she was. It was wholly a win-win situation. She shook AJ's hand, grinned winningly at him—she really missed smiling—and thanked him for allowing her the experience of working at JAG Headquarters. He looked at her nonplussed as she stood at attention for one of the last times, then dismissed her with only two weeks left to go before she was on terminal leave.

She hoped she would make it.

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

_0755 Local_

_Mac's Apartment_

_Georgetown_

Mac gave her apartment one last glance. There were still a few pieces of furniture remaining; the new tenant had expressed interest in having a furnished apartment. Her bed, the dining room table, the couch and a chair along with a few accent tables were left, and Mac sincerely hoped the young woman would find greater happiness here than she had.

Last night had been difficult. Once she'd made her decision, she had felt an overwhelming sense of relief and near-giddiness, but then, as she lay in her bed one last time, the reasons why she had chosen to end things here in this manner wouldn't let her rest.

It had all started with Harm's arrest for Lt. Singer's murder. She hadn't been allowed to visit him in the brig, and it tore her apart. It was not so much that he was there suffering and she wanted to be there to comfort him…but more that she had willingly followed the admiral's orders to the letter, not bucking her CO's decree as Harm would have done had the situation been reversed. The truth was that she was terribly hurt that Harm hadn't let her in on his investigation into Singer's pregnancy and had felt some satisfaction in 'punishing' him for it. The guilt over that was crushing and she had reacted badly…if one considered running off on an ill-considered mission posing as someone's pregnant wife 'reacting badly'.

Then came the days of listening to Webb scream as they tortured him, nearly being tortured herself, only to be rescued by her very own knight in shining armor. Okay, the armor was really just a denim jacket, but the results had been the same—except the damsel in distress didn't fall into the arms of the knight and they didn't ride off into the sunset together…

They'd instead ridden off in a biplane right into a tree. She'd said horrible things to him, angry that he would only speak in riddles, would never give her a straight answer as to why he threw away everything to find her. When she pressed him on it, he'd wanted to 'table' the discussion. In retrospect, tabling the discussion had been the best idea, but she knew his reasons for it were that he didn't feel _that way_ about her and not because he knew she'd been in no condition to talk about anything other than what she would be doing in the next five minutes. She'd been exhausted, couldn't close her eyes or sit in silence without hearing Clay's cries of pain, and the one man whom she loved most in the world didn't stop once to hold her, to tell her she'd be okay, to tell her he was there for her.

She'd just been another mission.

Mac had childishly wanted to provoke him, get him to fight for her, find out once in for all if he loved her just as she loved him. She'd thrown that _never_ in his face, and although something flickered in his eyes—regret, sadness, she didn't know—he'd stood there stoically, let her get into the cab, never protested it in the ride to the airport, never had one argument against it during the long flight, and didn't stop her as she hailed her own cab and left him standing at yet another taxi stand. Harm didn't call to check on her before they'd both shown up at JAG Headquarters on that awful day when she'd stood next to him as Admiral Chegwidden hurled insult after insult at the now former naval commander. She'd tried to protest on his behalf, tried to tell the admiral that the man had saved her life, but, to be honest, she'd been confused, had difficulty following their conversation, was tired beyond all measure having not _truly_ slept since the flight home, and it had just hit her that the admiral actually _refused_ to let Harm go after her. Admiral Chegwidden wouldn't send him, wouldn't give the man leave that he was due to go to her, and basically would have let her die a horrible, painful, tortuous death.

Mac's mouth only had asked permission to return to duty, because her brain was still trying to process what had just happened. Harm was not coming back. The admiral didn't actually care that _she'd _come back. She was hurt and angry with Harm. Harm didn't love her. She was just a friend. A friend for whom he'd given up everything…a friend who'd never thanked him for that…

Mac nearly cried in the middle of the bullpen when she realized she'd let Harm believe she wasn't grateful for his sacrifice. She had wanted to go after him after he'd thrown his cover to Tiner, but Harm had then given her such a look of absolute coldness that it literally made her shiver.

She decided to thank him some other time.

Life at JAG then become more and more onerous. She'd become the office pariah, was spoken to only as it pertained to a case or her duties as chief of staff, and after a couple of incidents with her supposed best friends, she decided it was time to leave. There would be no transfer; where once she'd been proud to serve, she now saw herself as unworthy. She had to be; why else would her CO have been willing to leave her behind in that South American hell?

Mac knew it wouldn't make a difference if she were transferred; she would still no doubt be unable to command the respect due a senior officer. The people here could barely hide their scorn for her, and she feared that somehow any new junior officers in a new post would follow suit. They'd pick up on the fact that she was wholly undeserving of their regard purely on the basis of her rank and then behave accordingly. Her leadership would do nothing for the good order of the Corps.

After Harm had walked out of JAG, Mac had given him a few days to cool down and then tried to call him. And call him…her multiple messages were left unanswered, and when sometime after the fifth one she'd stood outside Clay's hospital room listening to him welcome Harm to the brotherhood, she knew she needed to see him in person. Mac had left the hospital unseen and driven directly to Harm's apartment to wait for him. Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long…

* * *

_Flashback…_

"_Get out."_

_Mac whipped around, startled, her chocolate-amber eyes meeting his icy blue-greys. She'd let herself into Harm's apartment, ignoring the guilt that lanced through her as she'd used her emergency key. She figured if she were already in here when he arrived, it would be harder for him to avoid her. _

"_Harm, I— "_

"_Save it. I'm not in the mood."_

"_Wait, Harm…I need to talk to you, to apologize—"_

_Harm interrupted her with a bitter laugh. "Apologize? For what? I mean, your unwavering support for me with the admiral was sooo appreciated," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But, admiral…he saved my life!" he mocked, and she felt her eyes fill with tears. "After that half-hearted endorsement, why would you feel the need to apologize?"_

_By then, Harm was looming above her, glaring down at her with…was that hatred? Yes. It had to be…_

"_Look, Mac…if I had wanted to talk to you, I would have answered the phone instead of listening to you ramble on on my machine. You said everything you needed to down in Paraguay. Lucky for you, you don't have to put up with me anymore. You can go play nursemaid to your new boyfriend, cut up his food for him…maybe, I don't know, chew it up for him first…don't worry about ol' Harm."_

_Their 'conversation' had clearly gotten out of hand. "He's not my—"_

_Harm rolled his eyes. "That kiss you laid on him says differently."_

_Mac was once again having difficulty following a conversation. Harm sounded…jealous. But why? It was obvious he didn't even like her. As was growing common, her head started to pound as she tried to focus. "Harm…please don't be jealous…" She didn't mean to say that, but her addled mind wasn't cooperating today. She really should have picked a better time to come here. A snort from Harm startled her for the second time since she'd been here. _

"_Jealous? You've got to be kidding me, Mac! You think I wanna end up like your husband and boyfriends? Webb's already nearly been killed—and I'm not convinced he's going to survive you again. Doesn't sound like there's much to be jealous _about, _Mac."_

_There it was again. The reference to Mac's dismal success rate with relationships. Her tears freed themselves and slid down her cheeks. Harm turned away in disgust. _

"_I'm s-sorry to bother you, Harm." _

"_Oh, please, don't worry your pretty little head about it." He turned back to her and motioned toward the door. "Goodbye, Mac."_

_Mac felt she had no choice but to obey. "Goodbye, Harm." She walked to the door and pulled it open. She stepped into the hall, but then Harm's soft voice stopped her._

"_Mac?" He sounded tentative, almost contrite. Maybe they could still salvage this. She turned around. _

"_Yeah, Harm?" There was a hopeful lilt in her tone. _

"_The next time somebody gives up 'all they've got' to save you, you could at least thank him." The door slammed in her face._

"_But, I was-" she said to nothing._

* * *

The next run-in that started her on her current path occurred in the break room a week later…

* * *

_Flashback…_

"_Hey, you two…have you, um, heard from Harm?" _

_Mac had found both Bud and Harriet in the break room. The couple had been talking while they waited for a new pot of coffee to brew, but had stopped abruptly once she'd entered the room. _

_Harriet looked her up and down. "No, ma'am. Have _you?"

_Harriet's tone was not disrespectful, but it wasn't…respectful. Mac chose to let it go; tensions were high lately since Harm hadn't been allowed back, and, given that it was her fault, she figured she could cut everybody some slack. She shook her head in response to Harriet's reply. _

_Bud spoke up then. "He did send AJ a birthday gift."_

"_Oh, that was nice of him," Mac commented inanely. The coffee finished brewing, and Bud motioned for Mac to pour a cup for herself first. _

"_Yes," Harriet responded. "And AJ insisted on calling him _right away_ to thank him. Such a polite little boy, don't you think, ma'am?" Mac looked up at her sharply, but Harriet's gaze was the picture of innocence. Mac suspected it had gotten around that the ungrateful colonel hadn't thanked the commander for throwing away his career for her. _

"_Um, yeah…he's a sweetheart." Harriet's grin was smug. Mac blinked at her a few times, then murmured something about needing to get back to work. She left the room, leaving her steaming mug on the counter. _

_Bud brought it to her a few minutes later and started to say something that sounded like an apology, but Mac cut him off, dismissing him after thanking him for the coffee. Once he was gone, she tipped the dark liquid into the wastebasket. Her stomach had started to hurt, and the thought of the bitter liquid now nauseated her. Unfortunately, she'd been hoping the caffeine would help her stay awake; she hadn't slept well the night before, nor the night before that, nor the…well, no need to kid herself. She was barely sleeping at all and hadn't since…she honestly couldn't remember. _

_Today, though, she found she couldn't even focus enough to defend Santa Clause on a breaking and entering charge, so she'd gone to the admiral and asked to secure early because she wasn't feeling well. It was the truth, but Mac still squirmed inwardly as Admiral Chegwidden studied her, a feigned look of concern on his face. After several painful seconds, he told her to take tomorrow too if she wasn't one hundred percent. Mac assured him that she didn't think that would be necessary, thanked him, and left without being dismissed. She didn't do it on purpose; she truly forgot the normal protocol as she left a worried CO behind her._

* * *

Mac couldn't know that the admiral was suffering from his own guilt over the situation. He'd noticed the dark circles under his chief of staff's eyes deepening, watched her weight drop before his eyes, and regretted everything since he'd forbidden his staff to visit Harm in the brig. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about that now. The thought of it made him surly and difficult, and it further convinced his favorite marine that he didn't care about her.

No one cared about her, really…and she was fast reaching the point where she couldn't take it anymore.

The day she had secured early, she'd gone home, taken a double dose of Benadryl®, and woke up groggy and nauseated four hours later. She'd vomited up the crackers she'd tried to eat to settle her stomach, then fallen asleep again, not waking up until 1100 the next day. Obviously, she was already quite late for work, and since the admiral told her to take today if needed, she decided to stay home. She called in, apologized profusely to the admiral for not calling sooner, totally missing the relief in his voice when he told her it was okay.

She also didn't notice his relief when she showed up at little AJ's late birthday party the next day.

It was that party, however, that convinced her to go through with the plan that had been formulating in her mind for the last couple of weeks. She was no longer welcome in this world of hers, and it was time she left it behind…

* * *

_Flashback…_

_Mac stepped into the Roberts' kitchen and asked Harriet if there was anything she could do to help. Harriet declined, despite the multitude of food-laden trays surrounding her. Mac shrugged inwardly; she couldn't blame the woman for not wanting her involved. Mac stood awkwardly in the kitchen for a few moments, lost in thought, until Harriet's voice brought her back to reality. _

"_Was there something you needed, ma'am?" Mac refrained from asking her to call her Mac as she would have done before, then asked a certain question before she could stop herself. _

"_Is Harm coming today?"_

_Harriet nearly dropped the tray of fruit she held in her hands. She recovered quickly, shaking her head, telling Mac that Harm hadn't known what his schedule with the CIA would be like, so he'd thought it best to decline." Mac nodded. "But that was after he found out you'd be here." _

Ah…so that's how it is, _she thought_ _as her eyes widened at Harriet's rudeness. The plans she'd been merely toying with coalesced into something solid. It was time to act._

"_Well, Harriet, I actually have to get going." They hadn't even had cake or opened gifts yet. "Maybe you could see if Harm's free now?" Harriet looked surprised, and Mac nearly giggled. She said her goodbyes to the younger woman, then sought out little AJ. It broke her heart when the sweet little four-year-old cried as she told him she needed to leave, and when he asked why _she_ was crying, she told him it was because she was going to miss him so much. With one last 'I love you' she was gone._

* * *

Back in the present, Mac locked her apartment door behind her and left. She had a plane to catch.

* * *

_The next day…_

_1132 Local_

_United States Disciplinary Barracks_

_Ft. Leavenworth, KS_

It has been hard leaving her uncle for the last time, but it had needed to be done. She'd hugged and kissed him goodbye, not bothering to hide her tears, joked with him as she always had, then left the building. She tossed certain items into the nearest garbage receptacle, no longer needing them, found a mailbox in which to drop her letter to Uncle Matt, then drove back to the airport in Kansas City. She returned her rental car, not caring that they were going to charge her an arm and a leg since she hadn't bothered to refuel it, then entered the terminal.

A few hours later, planes were landing and taking off again. They flew overhead, filled with people going to places unknown, the bright sun glinting off their silver wings.

But Sarah MacKenzie wasn't on any of them...

Because Sarah MacKenzie was dead.

* * *

_End Prologue _


	2. You Don't Know

_A/N: An interesting set of reviews for the first chapter! I feel I should clear up a few things from the get-go here: 1) This won't be a Mac only story. I'm a shipper. A diehard shipper. I'm so shippery I get kinda ill if I read a story where Mac doesn't end up with Harm. So…there is that. 2) It is not up to Mac to reestablish the relationship. It's up to me! :) 3) Harm feels guilty. Really, really guilty. 4) I've played a little fast and loose with the timeline. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 2: You Don't Know**

_0755 Local_

_JAG Headquarters_

_Falls Church, VA_

Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr never thought he'd be returning to this, the scene of the crime as it were, but as he stepped into the bullpen again after eight months, it felt right. Now, three, even two months ago, he didn't think he could have said that. He had been enjoying flying for the CIA…well, he was enjoying the flying part anyway, and he'd still felt a smoldering fury toward the admiral, the navy, Mac…

_Mac…_ The guilt he felt over how they'd parted still hit him like a knife in the heart. In the last month, since he had been let go from the CIA over that little C-130 incident, he'd had much time to think. An infinite amount of time to the think…

Yes, he'd given up everything to find Mac. Yes, he'd gone down to Paraguay with the intention of rescuing her and telling her how he felt about her. Telling her that he loved her. And yes…it appeared she and Webb seemed to have formed a…_relationship_. She'd kissed him…and Harm had died inside.

When he'd found her chained and about to be tortured, he'd wanted nothing more than to tear her from that table of horrors and hold her, kiss her. Comfort her. But he'd needed to focus on getting them out of there first…and then…she'd kissed…_him._ Webb. She claimed later that she didn't have a 'thing' for Webb. But that kiss…

Of course, Harm had reacted badly. Jealousy had made him snide and cruel, and he just had to throw her past relationships in her face. She hadn't pulled any punches either, and just like that…everything he'd wanted to say, everything he'd wanted to do, went straight out the window. And when she'd dropped that 'never' on him…well, clearly, she didn't feel the same way about him that he did about her. It was time to cut his losses. He'd ignored her in the cab to the airport, on the airplane…although, he couldn't help but be relieved when she'd finally fallen asleep. He'd never tell her, but when she'd drifted off into what had to be an uncomfortable position, he'd shifted her so she could rest her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. The entire time they were together in Paraguay he hadn't seen her sleep more than a few minutes at a time. He strongly doubted it was any different in the days leading up to her rescue. How could she when he was sure she'd had to listen to Webb's screams?

Harm had made sure, though, that when she had awakened, he was positioned as far away from her as possible.

Then came the admiral's dressing down when they returned to the office. He'd always known there was a possibility that the admiral wouldn't take him back and he was prepared for that. What he hadn't been prepared for were the angry, cruel words spoken, no, _yelled_, by the admiral—being told to wrestle alligators or drive a cab, being told he wasn't a team player and had never been…after all he'd done for the admiral and Mac…

During the admiral's tirade, Mac had just stood there. Oh, she'd made a token protest—told the admiral that he'd saved her life, but it didn't ring true to Harm. She hadn't even thanked him yet for his sacrifice. She just requested to return to her duties like nothing had ever happened. Well, good for her…

Harm had left JAG broken, although he hadn't wanted to admit to that. Anger and maybe even hatred for Mac and the admiral took over his heart. He ignored each of Mac's five messages. Oh, he listened to them…and laughed bitterly at her attempts to communicate with him. He knew she just wanted to twist the knife in him a little more.

And then she'd shown up at his apartment…unannounced. Uninvited. That had been the last straw. He didn't want to see her, didn't want to hear any apology from her lips. She had betrayed him. He wanted no part in the life of Sarah MacKenzie, and he made sure she knew it.

She'd never contacted him again, and in the last several months, Harm had not sought her out, nor had he sought out anyone from JAG. There were no more late-night chats with Mac when he suspected her insomnia was plaguing her, although, really, when was the last time she'd called him like that—before Mic? No, she'd called him a few times after, back when they'd made a decision to start over with their relationship. There were no more dinners at the Roberts', no more hanging out with his godson. He'd had a beer with Sturgis a few times, but when only one of them was making the effort, those times had fast become extinct.

Harm had wallowed in his anger at the whole Paraguay/resignation situation, up until a little over a month ago. He'd just been let go from the CIA and had been at loose ends. He'd bought a motorcycle, took some long rides, rides long enough to realize he wasn't all that fond of motorcycles, took Sarah up a few times, visited his grandmother, but he felt wholly empty. One night he'd gotten rip-roaring drunk and found himself looking at old photo albums. He had a few with pictures taken during his childhood, one that chronicled his time at the Academy and as an aviator, and one that covered his time in law school. The last couple were from his time at JAG. He had a few pictures of him with his previous partners, Kate and Meg, and many, many more photos of Mac. Her alone, her with their godson, and a multitude with just him.

He'd taken one last sip of his bourbon, then thrown the glass at the wall in a rage. Damn JAG. Damn the navy. And most of all, damn Sarah MacKenzie. The next thing he knew, he was surrounded by torn pages and pictures. He was sobbing in anger, grief, even fear. Somehow, he'd made it to his bed and essentially passed out. When he awakened the next morning, hung over, he came upon the carnage from the night before. The torn pictures, mostly of Mac, nearly made him cry again. She'd been his best friend. She'd gone to the ends of the earth for him. It wasn't her fault that she didn't love him the way he loved her, and he'd been unspeakably cruel to her. Sure, she'd gotten her licks in too…

He'd started gathering up the scraps of photos, putting all the ones with Mac's face in one pile. And then he'd forced himself to look at them, one by one. In the earliest pictures, Mac was smiling, but her expression was still guarded. In subsequent photos, it was less guarded, her smile more natural; she looked truly happy. Those pictures, as near as he could remember, had been taken prior to his return to flying. After he'd returned, the pictures were fewer and farther in between…those pictures coincided with her relationship with Mic. With closer inspection, he saw that the guarded look was back in her eyes and he wondered at it. _How had he missed that? _Then there were the pictures that had been taken around the Christmas after the Jagathon. He remembered that innocent kis they'd shared under the mistletoe, and then he remembered their not-so-innocent kiss on the admiral's porch during her engagement party. Oh, how he loved her then, but he'd been too much of a coward to act on it. After all, hadn't she made her choice? Who was he to get between her and the man she intended to marry?

There had been a few rough months after Mic had left her, but then after the Jagathon, they'd started to patch up their friendship. They'd had dinners together again, movie nights, weekend outings to museums—everything and more than they had done before he'd left to fly. The pictures he had of her during that time were plentiful and she'd looked happy, even joyful in them. There was a warmth in her eyes in the ones that he knew he had taken, and he felt they were on their way to something more than friendship.

But then came the mess with Singer's murder, his arrest, and near-conviction. He knew he'd hurt her by not letting her in, but did she have to retaliate by going with Webb? Nearly getting killed? God, if he'd lost her…

Sitting amongst the neatened stacks of the torn up pictures, Harm realized then that he still loved her. He would do it all again—throw away his career, go to Paraguay, save her, lose her to Webb…he would _always _do anything for her. He did cry then; though he was alone in his apartment, he still felt terribly embarrassed at this display of emotion. He gathered up the rest of the pictures, tossed most of the scraps, and put the ones of Mac into an envelope. He slipped the envelope into the drawer of his nightstand and was going to take a shower when it hit him. That guarded look in her eyes…he'd seen it again in Paraguay but along with it there had been so much pain.

This shouldn't have been a new revelation to him.

If he hadn't let the heavy haze of jealousy blind him, he would have seen through her sharp words. He would have seen how much pain she was in, and he would have stopped, pulled her into his arms, and told her she was safe. He should have realized something was off with her; hell, she'd actually said she was stabbed in the leg during their run-in with those psychotic poachers, when in fact she'd been shot. He seriously doubted she'd forget that detail if she were in her right mind.

Most of all, even if she ultimately went off with Webb, he should have told her exactly why he'd come that far for her. He should have fought her on that 'never'. If he could have seen beyond his own hurt, he would have seen that devastated, haunted look in her eyes as she'd uttered that damnable word. That look that invaded his nightmares—because he still had them about her. In his dreams she was always lost. Sometimes it was because he'd been too late in Paraguay. Other dreams had her giving him that look before walking out of the admiral's office. He'd go after her, but by the time he made it to the bullpen, she was gone.

And no one remembered her.

He vowed then that he would go to her. Talk to her. Tell her everything. Tell her he was sorry. He would beg her forgiveness, and if he could be nothing else, he would be her friend.

His plan was to sleep off his hangover, clean himself up, and then go to her apartment. He only hoped she would let him in.

Unfortunately, it turned out that his plans had to be put on hold. He had gotten word that his grandmother had fallen ill that afternoon and by that night he was in Pennsylvania. It was a stroke; Grandma Sarah held on until his mother and stepfather arrived and then slipped away, leaving her grieving grandson behind.

It took time to get her estate settled, ensure that the Millers down the road would still farm the land, and to sell off the remaining livestock. He thought about calling Mac, but he really wanted to talk to her in person. He'd wait until he returned to DC.

On his last day at the farm, Harm had a surprise visitor. Harm was cleaning out the last of the horse stalls when a shadow fell over him. He looked up to see a familiar figure blocking the waning afternoon sunlight. He set the large push broom aside and stepped out of the stall.

"AJ." His tone was guarded.

"Harm." The two men stared at each other for long seconds, Harm growing more and more irritated. Finally, the admiral spoke again. "I was sorry to hear of your grandmother's passing."

"Thank you. And how, exactly, did you hear about that?" Harm certainly hadn't told him.

"I, uh, called your parents."

_What the hell?_ "Why?"

"I needed to find you." The admiral appeared uncharacteristically uncomfortable and Harm felt some grim satisfaction in that.

Harm backed into the stall again and picked up the broom, deciding it was too cold to just stand there. "Well, you found me." He made a couple of passes with the broom, and, feeling his former CO's eyes on him, he looked up. "I doubt you came all the away up here just to express your condolences."

"Well, no…not exactly." AJ went silent again, further annoying the younger man.

"Well, out with it. Why did you come all this way? Did you have a few more career suggestions? You must have heard I was let go from the CIA." Harm glared at AJ, who sighed heavily.

"I did. Harm, I came to apologize."

Now that did surprise him. Harm left the stall and hung up the broom, then leaned against a post to face AJ. "Really? That seems rather unlike you, AJ." He wasn't willing to make this easy for the man who had refused to let him find Mac.

"Dammit, Commander—"

"Ah, _sir, _you forget…I'm no longer a commander. You made sure of that."

"Goddammit, Harm. I'm not the one who resigned." AJ stepped closer to Harm, the anger obvious in his eyes. Harm wasn't intimidated. He took his own step forward.

"I'm not the one who would have let Mac die."

Harm couldn't be absolutely sure, but he could have sworn the admiral actually went pale at the mention of Mac. The two men glared at each other, then AJ's shoulders slumped.

"And I regret every bit of that," he said so softly, Harm wasn't sure he'd actually heard what he thought he heard.

"Wha—"

"I said, I regret every bit of that."

"Oh."

"You don't have anything else to say?"

"What do you want me to say?" Harm was in the mood to be obstinate.

The admiral sighed again. "Harm, let's start this again." Harm eyed the man, then shrugged and nodded. "First off, I _am _sorry about your grandmother. I know you were very close to her." Harm nodded again. His old CO did sound sincere and he didn't trust himself to speak. The fact that his grandmother, his staunchest supporter throughout the years, was gone still sent a lancinating pain through his chest.

"Second…I need to apologize for what I said when you returned from Paraguay. You, at times, have unique solutions to problems, and yes, you do tend to be impulsive. However, to say you aren't a team player…well, that isn't entirely accurate. You have, at one time or another, helped each of us in the office, and JAG hasn't been the same without you."

"Thank you, AJ." Harm was still wary.

"Third…I'd like to offer you a job. Specifically, your old job."

Harm's jaw dropped open. Harm hardly expected the admiral to show up here, literally hat in hand, and offer him his job back.

"Same rank, same pay, same benefits, no change in your pension."

"Sir, I—"

"We've been short a senior attorney far too long."

"But—"

"Harm…if I could do it all over again…I would have handled the Singer situation differently. It was the right thing legally to keep everyone away, but…it was the _wrong _thing in every other way. I should have found a way to send you to Paraguay. I should have joined you. Hell, I never should have let her go. The politics of the job got the way of what was good and right for the service. What was good and right for a family." He took a deep breath. "The one mistake I can correct is not letting you back in. And I _want_ to correct it."

Harm didn't know what to say. It was a lot to process. Everything in him wanted to say yes, to go back to where he'd felt the most comfortable, but could he really trust the admiral after everything that had happened? Would Mac even want him to come back? Because after what he'd done and said…

He swallowed hard. "Sir, I—"

"Think about it, Harm. I'll leave you alone, but I would like your answer as soon as possible." The admiral turned and walked toward the door of the stable.

Harm wondered if he would regret his next words, but…

"Admiral!"

Admiral Chegwidden stopped and slowly turned back around.

"I'll see you on Monday?"

The admiral couldn't entirely stop the smile that formed on his face. "That would be acceptable, Commander."

Harm paused a moment, debating whether to say anything further, finally deciding that he needed to say it.

"AJ…this doesn't fix everything…"

"I know, son…believe me, I know."

"Alright, then."

"I will see you Monday."

"Aye, sir."

And with that, the admiral was gone.

* * *

Now, back in the present, Harm just stood in place as the door to the bullpen shut behind him. He took in the familiar hustle and bustle of the place, the sounds, the scents. He was about to head to the admiral's office when he saw two more than familiar faces.

"Bud!" he called out. "Harriet!" The couple were in the doorway of Bud's office so Harm changed directions and headed there. He had to admit to himself that he was more than a little nervous at seeing Mac after all this time. Maybe seeing Bud and Harriet first would ease him into things. Mac's office was dark anyway.

Bud held out his hand to Harm as he arrived and Harm shook it heartily. He looked on in surprise at the baby Harriet held in her arms; he hadn't known she'd been expecting. "Oh, wow…who's this little man?"

Both his parents smiled with pride. "This is James Kirk Roberts, otherwise known as Jimmy," answered Bud.

"Hi, Jimmy!" Harm reached over and shook the baby's hand, and the little one's fist immediately curled around Harm's finger. Harm couldn't help grinning. _Mr. James Kirk Rob—wait…_

"Wait…did you say James _Kirk_ Roberts?"

"Yes, he did, sir." Harriet answered, clearly exasperated.

Bud blushed. "Ah, yes, sir," he said sheepishly. Harm had to laugh, then held out his arms to Harriet.

"May I?"

"Of course, sir!" Harriet handed Harm the little boy and Harm once again felt the stab of regret that he hadn't kept in contact with his JAG family.

"Well, come in, sir. Sit down!" Bud ushered him into the office before he went behind his desk. Harm took one of the chairs across from Bud and Harriet took the other. Harm decided his first act here would be to apologize to the Bud and Harriet for not answering their calls, for avoiding them altogether save to send a gift to little AJ on his birthday. The last time he'd talked to either of them was to decline Harriet's offer to attend AJ's fourth birthday party.

"Listen, you two…or _three_," he smiled at the baby in his arms. "I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch. It was...a bad time…for me. But that is no excuse. I hope you and Harriet and little AJ can forgive me."

A shadow passed over Bud's face, but then he was quick to smile. "Of course we can, sir. And we hope you'll come over soon. AJ would love to see you again. He still talks about you all the time, and—"

Harriet cut him off. "Yes, sir. Of course, we forgive you. And nothing would make us and little AJ happier than to have you over this weekend?" she questioned.

Harm nodded. "I'd like that, Harriet."

The three of them spoke about nothing in particular for a bit, then Harm checked his watch. "Well, you two, it's been great to see you again. I should get moving—gotta go see the admiral, then I imagine I'll hit the ground running." He looked down at the now sleeping baby in his arms. The baby deal he'd made with Mac went through his mind. _Speaking of…_

"Hey, do you know when Mac gets in? I'd like to…I _need _to talk with her."

Bud's head snapped up, his eyes wide. Harriet gasped beside him. "You don't know, sir?"

"Know what?" Harm felt his heart beat faster as a sick feeling settled in his stomach.

Bud swallowed. "Sir, Colonel MacKenzie…she's gone."

"What? Where did she—what…what happened?" He looked back and forth between Bud and Harriet.

"She resigned," Bud answered, and Harm immediately sensed there was something more to the story.

"What do you mean she resigned? Where did she go?" He knew it wasn't the CIA. He would have heard about that. He hadn't seen Webb since the spook welcomed him to the brotherhood eight months ago—last he'd heard, Webb was riding a desk.

"We don't know, sir." _What? _

"What? Well, who does?" Panic was rolling in…something was very wrong here.

Bud cleared his throat. "Nobody, sir. Nobody knows."

Harm was startled when Harriet let out a little cry and nearly sprinted out of the room. Harm watched her go then turned back to Bud.

"Bud?"

Bud looked ready to cry himself. "Sir, uh, about five months ago, Colonel MacKenzie resigned. She didn't want any going away party or anything…" He looked ashamed. "Not that anyone would have thrown her one at the time…"

_But, why?_

Harm shook his head. "Bud—"

About a week after she left, we received a letter from her…it was a goodbye to little AJ…and a notification that she'd left all the money in her account in a trust for him."

_This was wrong. All wrong. Mac—what did you do?_

Harm took in a deep breath. "Did anybody look for her? The admiral? Webb?"

Bud looked down at his desk. "Sir, Webb hasn't really been in any condition to help. And the admiral…he did try, sir." He shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing."

Harm stood up. "Bud, what the hell is going on here? How can nobody know where she is? The admiral has to know…" Jimmy whimpered in his sleep. He suddenly had an epiphany. "Her uncle! She would have to tell him where she was going." But Bud was shaking his head.

"No. No, sir. We asked…but after she left here, she went to see him. And then a couple of days later, he got a goodbye letter too."

Harm collapsed back into his chair. _No. NO! She wouldn't have…couldn't have…_

"Bud, you don't think she—"

Bud looked Harm in the eye. "I would have said no, sir…but the more time that goes by and we don't hear from her…I'm afraid that…she may have." Bud got up and came around the desk, easing baby Jimmy from Harm's arms before sitting in the chair recently vacated by Harriet. Harm just sat there, stunned, his gut clenching in fear for his Ninja Girl.

_Oh, Mac…you didn't. You couldn't have…not you…not…_

…s_uicide._

* * *

_End Chapter 2_


	3. Anna Blue

_A/N: Another set of interesting reviews! I'll just leave it at that ;)_

**Gone**

**Chapter 3: Anna Blue**

_1422 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

The little downtown shop was quaint, warm, and smelled of vanilla and cinnamon. It was a favorite for tourists, having a unique blend of tasteful Montana-themed souvenirs, antiques, and home décor. There was also a counter where one could purchase various coffees and teas along with pastries that were delivered every morning from a local bakery.

In the last five months or so, the local traffic in the store had increased and the shop's owner, Mary Scott, credited one person for that. Her name was Samantha; she was sweet, beautiful, and quiet, always had a kind word for her customers, and in general was beloved by everyone who met her.

She'd arrived in town one summer day, when Mary had been overwhelmed with not one, but two tour busses of senior citizens, the 'Help Wanted' sign in the window having been strangely ignored since she'd put it out three weeks before.

As soon as Samantha had walked into the shop, Mary realized why no one had taken her up on her offer of employment. She'd been waiting for this woman who had jumped in and helped her even though she was as yet unfamiliar with the store. Mary hired her on the spot and never had cause to regret it.

Samantha didn't talk much about her past, only that she'd recently ended a relationship of seven years and had decided to leave her home on the east coast, it being too painful to stay there. She'd searched for a place entirely different from where she'd been and had settled on northwest Montana.

Mary Scott was no fool. She knew there was more to Samantha O'Hara's story than she was telling. One only had to look into the depths of those huge amber-colored eyes to know that there were deeper issues afoot, but Mary sensed that at the core, her story held truth, and Mary decided she would do what she could to lift the cloud of sadness that drifted around the younger woman like a shroud.

Mary had been marginally successful. Sam, as she liked to be called, smiled more now, even laughed, but on certain days she was obviously melancholy. Though she remained friendly and professional with every customer, she barely spoke to her employer and could be seen brushing tears away when she thought no one was looking. Mary tried to be extra kind to her on those days, even offered to let her go home early, but Sam never took her up on that. Sam had never taken a vacation either, but then again, she'd only worked there for five months.

Currently Sam was manning the coffee counter. Mary had to stifle a laugh as she watched two local teenaged boys watch Sam adoringly as she made them coffees that seemed too fancy for fifteen-year olds. Sam really was more than beautiful; she had an exotic appearance and was tall and willowy, with dark chestnut hair that shone as it cascaded just past her shoulders. She'd grown her hair longer since she'd arrived here, and it suited her.

The two boys thanked Sam profusely for their coffees, raving about the taste and even about their hotness. Sam surreptitiously winked at Mary and this time Mary did chuckle out loud. She decided it was time to get her own cup of coffee, thankful that she'd finally trained Sam to not make the coffee so strong. She knew that on occasion, Sam made herself one of those extra-strength brews, and Mary wondered how she survived them. But as long as she herself didn't have to drink them…

"Can I get you something, Mary?" Sam looked up from the counter she was currently wiping down.

"Nah, I can get it. Do we have any of those orange scones left from this morning?" Mary asked as she poured herself a cup. Sam smiled as she pulled a plate out from under the counter.

"Saved you one."

"You're a lifesaver."

Sam waved the praise away and continued tidying up the area, grabbing a stack of dishes to put them back up into the cupboard.

Mary studied her employee as she gracefully moved about the small area. "No, really, Sam, I don't know what I'd do without you."

Sam blushed a light shade of pink. "Well, the feeling is mutual." The two women smiled at each other for a few beats until a family of tourists came in, and the two women needed to return to their duties.

* * *

_1801 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

"Well, I think that about does it."

Sam looked up at her boss. "It was a good day today."

Mary smiled at her. "Yes, it was. Almost as busy as it will be after Thanksgiving."

"Was it? That'll be fun."

Mary raised an eyebrow at her. "Fun? We'll see. It gets pretty crazy around the Christmas season."

Sam shrugged. "I like to be busy. Why don't you head out, Mary? I'll lock up."

"You closed last night. I can handle this. Go on, go home." Mary didn't want to take advantage of Sam; the woman was all too willing to work beyond what she was hired for.

"Really, Mary. Besides, I know Dan is coming home tonight." Dan was Mary's husband of thirty-three years, who had recently gone to Billings on business.

Mary was obviously thinking about that now. Eventually, she nodded, giving Sam a wide grin. "Okay…I'll go this time…but, next time…"

Sam laughed. "You know I don't mind. Now get out of here."

Mary made to head to the back to grab her things. She was halfway there when she turned around and gazed piercingly at Sam, who immediately started to squirm. "What, Mary?"

"You need to get out more, Samantha."

"I get out." Sam never liked when the conversation turned personal.

"Sure, you do. You know, Dan works with a couple of nice guys."

This was not the first time Mary had mentioned those 'couple of nice guys'. "No, thank you, Mary."

"But— "

"I said _no, _Mary. Drop it."

Mary was clearly taken aback at Sam's tone and Sam was instantly contrite.

"Oh, Mary…I'm sorry…it's just, I can't…" She felt the tears coming on and it embarrassed her. She turned away.

Soon, she felt Mary's presence beside her and then the older woman's arm went about her shoulders. "No, Sam…I'm sorry. I shouldn't push. But Sam…" She stopped speaking, apparently waiting for Sam to look at her. Finally, she obliged. "Sam…when, _if,_ you're ever ready, you can tell me anything and everything, alright?"

It was tempting, but not now. Everything, even after these five months, was still too raw. Eventually, she just nodded, and Mary left her after giving her a final squeeze.

Sam watched her boss go, tramping down on the tears that wanted to flow, then went about closing the shop.

* * *

_1910 Local_

_Sam's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Sam unlocked the door to her rental and stepped inside. Her cat, Nicodemus, wove himself about her legs, meowing, begging for his supper. The grey-striped creature came from a humane society in Kalispell. She hadn't intended to get a cat, hadn't intended to get any pet, but as she walked by the little pet fair in front of a small strip mall, Nicodemus let out a cry and jumped from the worker's arms and into Sam's. The little cat looked her deep in the eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was driving back to Whitefish with the cat curled on the front passenger seat of her used Subaru, with a litter box, litter, cat food, and other supplies.

The had proven to be a comfort and had kept her company through many sleepless nights.

Once she had Nic fed, she stepped into her bedroom, intent on changing into her workout clothes for a run on her treadmill. She realized as she stepped into the bathroom where she usually hung up them up after exercising that she had thrown the clothes into the wash this morning. She circled back to the bedroom and pulled open the appropriate drawer, taking out a new set. She intended to close the drawer back up, but the little box in the back corner, almost hidden under a sports bra, called to her again and this time she succumbed to temptation.

She set the box on her dresser and hesitated before opening the lid, first running her finger over the delicate filigree trim. He'd told her when he'd given it to her that he had no idea why he put back the earrings he was going to get her for her birthday that year and got her the box instead, but there it was. He was embarrassed, she was in tears. Her grandmother had had an identical box on her bedroom vanity and the little girl she used to be had spent hours opening and closing it, taking out the treasures inside and putting them back in. The box was lost after her grandmother died, and though she would never know if this particular box was the same one, she treasured it. It was one of the only things she'd brought with her when she'd moved.

Finally, Sam lifted the lid and set the little velvet bag containing her other grandmother's pearl earrings aside. The bag was covering a folded up picture, and with trembling fingers, she lifted it out and opened it. She stepped back to the bed, sitting down at the foot of it to study the photograph she'd tried to leave behind.

His blue-green (or were they green-grey?) eyes smiled out at her, those perfect lips set in that beautiful grin of his. She traced the border of his face with her finger, brushing the tear aside that had dripped off her nose and landed on him. The sobs came then, sobs of grief and frustration. Why couldn't she forget him? Let him go?

It had been nearly eight months.

She should be over this by now.

She shouldn't still miss him.

It shouldn't still hurt like this.

She threw the picture away from her and wept into her hands.

* * *

_End Chapter 3_


	4. What's Going On

_A/N: A short little update…_

**Gone**

**Chapter 4: What's Going On**

_2120 Local_

_Roberts' Residence_

_Reston, VA_

Harm sat in the far corner of the Roberts' living room, sipping a glass of bourbon. The lights of the room and the more festive lights of the tree didn't quite reach him, and he sat amongst shadows.

That was just fine with him.

Since he'd returned to JAG, the empty hole left by Mac's departure _(Disappearance? Death?) _had only grown larger. Deeper. He was drowning in it, but he dared not let that be known. He'd already been told multiple times by multiple people to _let it go._ Mac was gone. By her choice, by whichever way she had chosen to leave them.

_Whichever way…_Harm refused to believe his Ninja Girl had committed suicide. Even if everyone else believed otherwise…

They—the admiral, Bud, Sturgis…they all believed she'd left DC, visited her uncle, then gone somewhere and done…_it. _Killed herself. Committed suicide. But how could they explain never finding a body? How could they say she had ended it at all just because they'd never found _her? _

On that horrible day when Bud had told him she was gone, he'd gone straight to the admiral and demanded to know why he wasn't told about Mac from the first. AJ had pulled off his reading glasses, stood up, and come around the desk to lean against the front of it. His arms were folded over his chest, his head down, and Harm knew he'd never seen AJ so defeated.

"_Son," he'd said. "I didn't think you'd come back if I told you." _

Harm's jaw had dropped. He'd never expected to hear such honesty from the admiral about such a topic and he was rendered speechless. The two men eyed each other for a moment, then AJ sighed and sat in the duplicate of Harm's chair—the one Mac had always sat in.

"_Harm, everything I told you to convince you to come back here was true. It was a mistake to not take you back after you'd brought her back to us. But…it's more than that. We, _I_, need you here. She left here thinking we didn't care about her; I know she did. What else would she think? I basically left her for dead. Everyone else was angry that I didn't let you back, and they took it out on her. Bud, Harriet…Sturgis…they all blamed her. They barely spoke to her…and I did nothing to make them see who was really to blame. Even me…I couldn't face her after what I'd done, and in the end, she did what she thought we wanted…left. Everything here is in shambles. Morale…it's nonexistent. I think you're the only one who can fix it, or at least make it better. Maybe that's putting too much on you…but…"_

"_Sir," Harm interrupted. "When did you all realize she…she…might have…" He couldn't say the word. _

"_When Bud and Harriet got their letter…she apologized to them for—for…you, and then came the information about AJ's trust fund. Putting every last bit of money into something like that isn't what people typically do if they're planning to stick around. Harriet was—_is—_devastated. _

"_At first I tried to tell myself she was just trying to make up for what she thought she'd done…but then her uncle got his letter. He was blindsided by it. She'd acted normally when she visited him…we tried to retrace her steps. She gave up her apartment, sold her car…the last time anybody saw her was at the car rental return in Kansas City. She hadn't refueled…got slapped with extra fees…she never paid that credit card bill."_

"_How do you know— "_

"_Webb."_

Harm's first thought had been to go to Webb, but then Bud had mentioned Webb wasn't in any position to help…

"_Sir, Bud mentioned that Webb wasn't doing so well…"_

"_It took him a long time to recover from his injuries. Even then, it was unlikely he'd be able to return to fieldwork—too much nerve damage. The story is he started drinking heavily…damn near died once or twice. His mother intervened…now Webb's, I don't know…"_

"_Last I heard he had a desk job at Langley."_

The admiral snorted. _"In name only at best…he tried to help with finding Mac…but I think the guilt over that whole situation got to him too."_

"_Sir…I still don't know what I can do about—" _He waved his hand in the general direction of the bullpen.

"_I don't know, son. But maybe if they have one of you back…"_

Thinking back on that conversation, Harm mused that morale may have improved if the admiral's new chief of staff hadn't been so focused on Mac's whereabouts, but, not having the last five months to get used to the idea of her disappearance and 'likely' suicide, he couldn't drop it. The admiral, for the most part, indulged him until one evening a week ago when he'd found Harm working late—not on case, but on searches for Jane Does brought to hospital morgues. He wasn't really looking for _her _body, he'd just wanted confirmation that she wasn't lying unclaimed in a drawer somewhere. He'd come up empty and told the admiral as much, but the admiral had snapped at him, telling him he needed to leave that be and work on JAG business. Harm told him that he was perfectly capable of doing his work while searching for her on the side. The admiral lost it…

"_Dammit, Rabb! She's dead. You know it and I know it. I brought you in to help this office get over that. Instead, you sit here wasting your time, giving everyone false hope! Give it up!"_

"_But, sir— "_

"_Stop this. That's an order! And I know about your visit to Leavenworth. You know Matthew O'Hara knows no more than we do. He has enough problems and he doesn't deserve to have you tormenting him about this. Do you understand?" _

The admiral stood over Harm's desk and glared.

"_Sir— "_

"_Do. You. Understand, Commander." _

Harm realized then that he was still sitting down, had never stood or made a motion to when Admiral Chegwidden had come into the office. His CO hadn't seemed to notice either, but Harm thought he'd better at least do it now. He stood, coming to attention.

"_Yes, sir," he said crisply. _

Admiral Chegwidden sent another glare Harm's way, then nodded.

"_Now, unless you have actual JAG business to conduct, I suggest you go home, Commander."_

Harm had agreed, then watched the admiral turn on his heel and leave his office.

Harm thought Admiral Chegwidden protested too much.

And AJ Chegwidden couldn't control what Harm did outside the office.

And thus the search continued…

* * *

"You're thinking about her, aren't you, sir." Harriet sat down beside him, taking his nearly empty glass from him and handing him a glass of water as she got herself situated.

Harm's lip curved into a sad half-smile. "It's Harm here, Harriet." He looked down at the water in his hand. "And, yes, I am. Is it that obvious?"

Harriet shrugged. "No, but since I'm thinking about her, I figured you were too."

Next to Harm and AJ, Harriet probably felt the most guilt over the whole situation. He'd gone to find her after he'd met with the admiral his first day back, and she'd tearfully related how unfair and unforgiving she'd been to Mac, how absolutely rude she'd been. Harm had given her a hug, telling her he'd been worse, and together they grieved their friend.

"Comm—_Harm_…do you…do you really think she's out there, alive?"

Harm reached over and took Harriet's small hand in his, hesitating slightly before answering. "I do, Harriet," he said before he let her go. "Don't you?"

Harriet looked down at her lap. "I—I don't know, sir." He was about to call her on the 'sir', but then her head came up and her blue eyes met his. "But if you do, sir…_Harm_, then that's good enough for me. We'll keep looking."

Harm smiled, fully this time, though it was still colored with sadness. "Yes, we will, Harriet. Yes, we will."

* * *

_2301 Local_

_Roberts' Residence_

_Reston, VA_

Harm slipped on his coat, before opening the Roberts' front door, ready to head to Midnight Mass. Before he stepped out into the frigid darkness, he lifted his eyes to the little sprig of greenery above his head. The memory of another Christmas Eve, of soft lips that tasted like chocolate and cinnamon, rose unbidden and he swallowed the lump in his throat, blinking against the wetness in his eyes. With one last glance at the mistletoe, Harm headed into the night.

* * *

"_Uh oh…"_

_His eyebrows rose in question as she continued to straighten her coat._

"_Awkward moment Number 310…"_

_Two pairs of eyes glanced upward at the golden bells and sprig of mistletoe that hung above their heads. _

_And two sets of lips met, soft and sweet…_

* * *

_End Chapter 4_


	5. In the Bleak Midwinter

_A/N: Five! Don't worry, I'll do a chapter or two of Letters to Harm before I post more of this. Thanks for all the reviews!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 5: In the Bleak Midwinter**

_1031 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

"Look's like we missed one."

"Hmmmmm?"

_Uh oh…awkward moment Number 310…_

"Sam?"

"What?"

Sam tore her gaze away from the sprig of mistletoe hanging over the entry to the antiques area. It was January 13th and yet the little piece of greenery still graced the shop. She stared blankly at her boss.

"The mistletoe…we missed it when we took down the rest of the Christmas decorations." Sam nodded and looked away from Mary's speculative look. She didn't want her employer to see through to the pain she felt at the sight of that bit of Christmas cheer.

"Oh, yeah…I guess we did," she murmured, returning to the task of restocking the display of historical novels, all written by Montana authors.

It was one of those days again…the kind of day where she felt all the guilt and sadness pressing down on her, the kind of day that would have Mary trying to send her home early. Sam had never accepted that offer; it was so much more preferable to be busy. In the quiet of her home, all she would do was think, and thinking was too painful. Invariably she would give into temptation and pull his picture from her box, wondering if this would be the time she realized she didn't love him anymore.

That hadn't happened yet...

Tears would always come, stealing her sleep from her. Each time, however, an exhausted Sam would show up to the shop with no trace of the agonies of the previous night.

And now there was this errant mistletoe…

_Awkward moment number 310…_

"Well, I'll go grab the stepladder and get it down." Mary turned toward the storeroom, but then turned her head back toward Sam. "Unless you want me to leave it for when Ian picks you up." She chuckled as Sam felt a blush color her cheeks, then went about her business.

Ian Marshall was one of the 'nice guys' that worked with Mary's husband, Dan. She had met him at the Scotts' annual Christmas party, and the two had struck up a conversation about skiing. She hadn't been skiing in years, and the next thing she knew, they had made plans to go skiing at the Whitefish Mountain Resort the next day.

Sam had to admit she'd had fun. Ian was a good sport about staying with her on the easier trails and they hadn't run out of things to talk about. He had worked for Dan Scott for a little more than three years and, like her, he had essentially been "adopted" by Dan and Mary. He had grown up near Denver, attended college in Seattle, and had two younger sisters, Kate and Cathy. They were a close family, his parents still married and going strong in their retirement. They had a cabin near here and made it a point to visit often.

Sam was initially intimidated by the specter of his family. They seemed like the quintessential All-American family while her family basically started and ended with her.

As they sat in the ski lodge talking over steaming mugs of hot chocolate, she told him she'd grown up in Arizona. She had been an only child, her parents were dead—her mother died when she was fifteen, her father four and half years ago. He had been in the military, so they'd moved around a lot before they'd settled in Yuma, AZ.

Sam didn't go into great detail, artfully redirecting the conversation back to his family; he had so many anecdotes about the tortures he'd visited on his sisters that he very much enjoyed telling. It was easy to get Ian talking again, the focus back on him.

And Sam had truly laughed for the first time in months.

It felt good.

It felt _nice. _

_Ian was nice. _

He dropped her off at her house with a friendly hug, promising to call her again soon.

And he did call. From his car. Right then and there, asking her to have lunch with him the next day.

Sam felt the stirrings of something warm growing within her, and to her surprise, it felt like happiness.

* * *

_0902 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

"Good lord, is that thing still there?" Sam looked up from the Valentines Day display she was tearing down and saw that Mary was pointing to the mistletoe that still hung above their heads.

"Oh, dear…I didn't even notice…"

Mary narrowed her eyes at the now dried-out little plant. "Oh, later. I'll do it later." She went back to working on her inventories.

For the rest of the day, Sam couldn't seem to ignore the mistletoe. Her eyes were drawn to it as much as a siren drew hapless sailors to her rocky shores, and it irked her.

It irked her because it made her think of _him _and the taste the peppermint he'd used to conceal the fact that he'd indulged in a rare cigar before he returned to the Christmas party…

It irked her because it then made her remember a cold night where'd they'd shared another cigar for the warmth…

And it irked her because she remembered that he actually always tasted of peppermint, and when Ian kissed her last night for the first time, all she'd wanted was to taste peppermint again.

* * *

"_You smoked a cigar," she accused. His hand left the small of her back and reached around to her arm as they stepped over a particularly icy area in the parking lot. _

"_I did."_

"_I thought you gave them up."_

"_Well, I needed something warm, and you weren't there." He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows until she laughed._

"_Oh, stop, squid."_

_They were both parked at the far end of the lot and it was slow going with all the ice, not that she minded. He'd kept his protective arm around her and she couldn't resist snuggling in closer. She wondered if he noticed. _

_It was then his turn to speak. "You had chocolate…and let me guess…one of Harriet's cinnamon rolls."_

_She looked up at him and smiled. "Try two cinnamon rolls."_

_He gazed down at her fondly. "That's my marine," he declared softly. They made it to her car and he let her go—slowly, she thought. "Well, here we are."_

"_Yeah."_

"_Aren't you going to get in?"_

"_Oh, yeah."_

_She didn't move, though, but then neither did he. "You know, we're going to be late to the service if you don't get in the car."_

"_Uh huh."_

"_I'll see you soon. Drive safely."_

"_I will." _

_Neither moved. _

"_Come on, Ninja Girl, get in the car." He was grinning so she knew he wasn't actually annoyed with her. Their eyes locked for long moments and then he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, back by her ear. As he did that, he reached around and opened her door for her. "See you at the church." _

_She breathed in his unique scent and something else that blended with the remnants of the cigar. _What was it? Ah…

"_Peppermint!"_

"_What?"_

"_You always taste like peppermint." _

_And with that, she was gone._

* * *

_1922 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

"Thanks for stopping here for me, Ian. I can't believe I forgot to fax in that order before I left."

Mac stepped into the office and located the forms she needed, then quickly slid them into the fax machine. As she entered the number, Ian wrapped his arms around her from behind. She leaned back into him, enjoying the human contact.

Things with Ian were going fairly well, she thought. They spent time together multiple nights a week, went skiing a few more times, and had a couple of romantic dinners. They'd kissed, rather chastely, and, though she knew he wanted to move things along a little more, he respected that she needed to take things slow.

Ian's kisses were nice, just like he was. He was tall and strong, with short dark hair. From behind he almost looked like _him, _and, to her chagrin, it still threw her to see Ian's deep brown eyes when he turned around instead of the stormy sea-colored ones she expected. It was…_disconcerting, _despite there not being any other similarities to speak of.

Seeing that the fax had gone through, she turned in his arms and kissed his cheek. "Hey, before we go, I want to show you the antique fishing poles we just got in." Ian enjoyed fishing in the summers, and he collected various antique items once used for his hobby.

Together they walked toward the entry to that area.

And that's when she saw it.

That damn sprig of mistletoe above the door.

_How had they not taken it down yet?! It was the middle of March!_

Ian followed her gaze, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the Christmas plant.

"Uh oh…" he said with a grin.

_Awkward moment Number 310…_

He pulled her into his arms and pointed upward. "Think it counts in March?"

"What?"

"Mistletoe…I believe we're supposed to kiss under it."

"Oh…" Ian's lips crashed down on hers. This was no soft peck on the lips; he kissed her hungrily, opening his mouth and letting his tongue graze across the seam of her lips. She allowed it, and soon their tongues danced together. A moan escaped him…

_You had a cigar…_

_You had chocolate…_

_Peppermint…_

_You always taste like peppermint…_

This was wrong.

This tasted of coffee and spice.

As nice as Ian's kiss was, he wasn't…_him. _

But it could never be _him. _

She needed to let him go.

She needed to stop getting up in the middle of the night after a date with Ian to look at _his _picture. To see if her feelings for Ian finally eclipsed her feelings for _him._

They didn't. Not yet.

And deep down, she knew they never would.

"No, Ian…" Sam pushed away from him and he stood there, stunned.

"Sam?"

Tears filled her eyes. This was so unfair. For Ian. For her. The beauty and peace of this place has done much to heal her soul, but it would never erase her feelings of guilt nor her feelings for _him._

There would be only one way to do that…and she wouldn't do that.

She'd thought about it…during those dark nights after she'd gone to his apartment, after she'd endured one too many disgusted glares for the day.

But, no.

She couldn't do that.

So, she'd found another way.

But nothing was perfect…

"I'm sorry, Ian. I-I can't…I don't feel that way about you…and you deserve someone so much better than me."

"But, Sam…I thought…we have fun together, don't we?

"Yes."

"We enjoy each other's company…"

"We do, Ian, but…"

"No, no buts…"

"Ian…there's always going to be a 'but'. I'm sorry. I've stayed with someone once before, almost married him, even though I knew I'd never love him like that. I hurt him. I hurt…other people, because of it. I won't do that to you."

Brown eyes met brown eyes and Ian must have seen something in her gaze. His shoulders slumped.

"I'm sorry, Ian."

He nodded. "I'm sorry too." He surprised her by pulling her back into an embrace. "I'll need some time, but I…I hope we can still be friends someday."

"Me too."

He let her go with a kiss on her cheek, and then he was gone. Just like that.

* * *

Sam knew she'd done the right thing, but it didn't stop her from feeling the rage and grief over the whole situation. She angrily yanked a chair over to the little doorway and stepped up on it. It wobbled a bit, but she managed to yank that damned mistletoe off the doorframe and throw it to the floor. Once she got back down on solid ground, the chair tipped over behind her. She ignored it as she stomped on the dry, dead plant. It practically disintegrated under her boot, and as she looked at the remains of it, the sobs came. She was so angry…at herself…at _him. Especially at him…_

Sam left the chair and scraps of mistletoe where they lay and exited the shop, locking it back up more out of habit than any conscious thought. She raced home and, ignoring the irritated meows from Nicodemus, she stomped into her bedroom. She yanked open the drawer that held her little box, pulled it out, and slammed it on the dresser, gouging the wood. She found what she was looking for, that damn picture, and roughly unfolded it. His beautiful eyes shown above that beautiful smile and she didn't think she'd ever been this angry before.

"_You son of a bitch!" _she cursed at him, crumpling the picture in her hand. She threw it violently away from her, narrowly missing Nic, who jumped aside with a hiss and a screech.

Her chest heaving, she glared at the little ball now in the corner. Just tossing it aside wasn't good enough. She snatched it back up and stalked back to the living room and her fireplace. Once she had the fire going, she unfolded the picture, damned him to Hell, and tossed it in.

It didn't take long for the flames to start licking at it.

_Oh, god. _

_She couldn't do this. _

_She couldn't lose this last bit of him. _

Carelessly, she thrust her hand into the fireplace, ignoring the searing pain of the heat, and snatched the photo from the flames.

She collapsed on the floor with the singed picture of him, cradling her already blistering hand in her lap, and screamed with the pain of it all.

* * *

_End Chapter 5_


	6. Boy Blue

_A/N: Here at long last is Chapter 6. Thanks as always for the reviews!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 6: Boy Blue**

_May 2004_

_1543 Local_

_JAG Headquarters _

_Falls Church, VA_

Harm sat in Mac's office, silently praying the day would end soon. His court case had finished this morning, he'd completed his daily stack of paperwork, and now he just needed to print off a couple of reports. He would have been impressed with his efficiency had it been just due to him turning over a new leaf, but of course that wasn't the case.

The reality was that he didn't want to give Admiral Chegwidden any cause to scrutinize his activities. Harm was still doing a fair amount of sleuthing regarding the whereabouts of Mac, and he didn't need AJ blowing up at him again.

Only Harriet inquired about his search, and it pained him to tell her time after time he'd found nothing. He knew she was beginning to give up any hope that Mac was still out there, and it saddened him that his one ally in this was likely only humoring him.

Heaving a sigh, Harm clicked on the 'Print' button. He waited for the printer to spit out a rather mind-numbing report, drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair until he realized nothing was happening. He looked over in annoyance at the machine and saw that it was out of paper, so he set about trying to find where he'd stashed extra in Mac's desk.

It was funny—he still thought of this office, this desk, as Mac's, despite the fact that _his _nameplate had been on the door since November. Initially he'd hoped that being in her office would make him feel closer to her, make her easier to find, but apparently it didn't work that way. It shamed him to remember his words to her as they returned from their time on an American submarine in her case, a Russian one in his.

_I always know where you are._

At the time he'd believed it. Now…

Some nights, when thoughts of her invaded his mind and robbed him of sleep, he would be filled with such doubt. These were dark, hopeless nights when he'd be convinced that she was dead, and he'd find himself wanting to cry with the pain of it. He held it in as much as possible, but sometimes he couldn't do anything but surrender to the tears.

In the light of day, he'd regain his determination and hope, but there was always the nagging fear that one day he'd wake up bereft, convinced that she was no longer of this world. When that day came, he knew his life would be over even if he still breathed.

Finally finding his 'paper' drawer, he wasn't pleased to find that there were only about three sheets left. This report alone would be at least five. He reached into the far back of the drawer, immediately feeling foolish; unless it was a crumpled mess, he wasn't actually going to find more paper there. With a snort of derision directed solely at himself, he pulled his hand back…

And that's when he found it…

A bit of cool metal against the warmth of his hand…

He carefully slid it out from the drawer and held it up to see it.

_It _was a smallish key, bronze-toned, with no definitive markings on it, attached to an unadorned key ring. It was really very unremarkable, but as he closed his fist around it, he knew that this little key was the key to everything.

* * *

_August 2004_

_1059 Local_

_JAG Headquarters_

_Falls Church, VA_

Harm pulled his dog tags out from under his uniform and studied them for long seconds, finally detaching the key he'd been keeping with them. He held it in his palm, the key still warm from being next his body, and waited for an epiphany…

That didn't come…

He'd held onto the key he'd found in Mac's old desk, trying to find some clue as to what it unlocked. Of course he knew that it would be nearly impossible to know where the key had come from just on appearance alone, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that this key held all the answers.

Harm had shown it to more than one locksmith, ignoring the odd looks they gave him that implied he wasn't all there as they told him they had no idea where this key had come from. Harm had even gone so far as to try the key in filing cabinets around the office and in the locker rooms by the gym in the basement. A low point came when he found himself skulking around Mac's old apartment building.

He knew damn well the key wouldn't fit into anything there, including the mailboxes, but he was compelled to try. He managed to slip in behind one of the tenants, found Mac's mailbox, tried the key, which of course didn't fit, then found himself climbing the stairs to her apartment. It was quiet there in the hall, and for a moment he just leaned against the wall opposite her door. He lost himself to memories of her, of her smile, her scent, how surprisingly soft she felt when he'd had the rare opportunity to hold her in his arms.

Harm swept an errant tear aside, embarrassed at this overt display of emotion. These months of missing Mac had taken their toll, and his emotions now constantly bubbled just below the surface.

He did fairly well controlling things at work where he couldn't afford to show any chinks in his armor. But at home, alone, it didn't take much—a memory, a picture, a song…and the crushing weight of his loss would fall on him. All control would fail him, and he had no choice but to let it out, with angry rants or tears of grief.

Harm knew he should probably see a therapist, but it was pretty much a given that he or she would tell him to give it up. Give _Mac _up.

He wouldn't do that.

He _couldn't_ do that.

Unaware how long he'd been outside Mac's apartment, he was startled by the sound of a door opening.

Mac's door…

He straightened himself up and caught a glimpse of dark chestnut hair…

"Mac?" His heart was pounding and his hands were shaking and he wondered if this could be real?

_No. _

The woman who stepped out of Mac's apartment was younger, her hair closer to black, and it was longer than he'd ever seen Mac wear it.

_Because she isn't Mac._

The terrible pall of despair descended over him once again, this time so dense he couldn't even see the fear in the young woman's eyes. He could only stand there, immobile, eyes wide, his brain trying to find a way to make this woman into the woman he loved.

"C-can I help you?" The woman who was not Mac spoke, startling Harm, which caused him to jump and pitch forward. The woman yelped and seconds later Harm heard a telltale hiss.

The burn was nearly instant. It wasn't a direct hit; it actually wasn't even close, but as the pepper spray dispersed in the air, Harm's eyes teared up he started to cough. He turned and lurched down the hall toward the stairs, his nose running and his lungs burning with each intake of air.

It wasn't hard to figure out that the poor woman had gotten the majority of the spray; she was doubled over, coughing and crying. He would have helped her, actually almost did help her, but as the woman most likely saw him as a potential rapist, it behooved him to get his sorry six out of there.

He made it to the stairwell, hoping his vision wouldn't worsen to the point that he couldn't drive; he really did not need to be picked up by the cops and then have to explain himself to Admiral Chegwidden.

Harm was relieved both when he reached his Lexus and over the fact that he'd brought the Lexus in the first place. Despite his inherent skill at driving, shifting gears in the 'vette would have seemed too much of an effort.

It was a slower drive back to his apartment and it was a relief when he could wash himself off and flush his eyes. He was damned lucky the woman had failed so spectacularly in her efforts to subdue him. He hoped she was okay…

Suddenly Harm was laughing. Who but him would be caught like this, creeping around an apartment where a woman who'd possibly, no, _probably _killed herself a year ago used to live? And then get himself attacked because he _looked _like a creeper? His life had become a joke.

Here he was, pushing forty, alone, pining over a woman who was most assuredly dead…

_Dead…_

_DEAD…_

And suddenly the joke wasn't funny anymore.

His laughing had turned into sobs but instead of the sadness, he felt intense rage. More than he had ever let himself feel before. He was mad at Mac, Webb, AJ…even Bud and Harriet. After all, _they _still had their happy family. The happy family he'd never have, all because he didn't fight back when she told him 'no'.

_Never…_

Harm turned away from his bathroom sink and yanked the damnable key out of his pocket. He studied it, then clenched it in his fist only to suddenly pitch it into his bedroom. He didn't watch to see where it landed before he whipped back around to stare at himself in the mirror.

He saw a nearly middle-aged man with red-rimmed and blood shot eyes, seething in anger. He saw a man who'd thrown away any chance at happiness due to his stubborn pride. Most of all, he saw what he'd become: a crazed, obsessed man who had let the useless hope of finding Mac consume him even more than his search for his father had.

He was sick of it.

He was sick of that pathetic man staring back at him.

He hated him.

With a roar, Harm pulled his hand back and sent his fist flying into the mirror. There was a satisfying crunch as he hit the glass, leaving blood from the cuts on his knuckles behind as it shattered, sending cracks out in a web, obscuring his face.

Harm ignored the pain in his hand as he pounded his fist on the sink. That not being enough to slake the fury flowing through him, he stalked out of the bathroom and proceeded to sweep every item off his dresser. He then grabbed the lamp on his nightstand and threw it against the wall, the bulb breaking and sending tiny, fine shards of glass everywhere.

Next he stepped down into the living area, heading first toward the shelf on the wall that held a few framed photographs. These too were swept away to spread glass over the floor, and as he thought to himself that he rather liked the sound of breaking glass, he turned toward his desk. Deep down, he was embarrassed at this tantrum, but he couldn't stop and the items that had graced his desk ended up one by one on the floor.

Breathing heavily, he reached for the last object, a framed picture that was sure to make a splendid noise as it hit the hardwood. He caught the picture up in his hand, tested its weight, and prepared to fling it…

But then he saw what it was…_who _it was…

_Her. _

She was holding little AJ on his third birthday and she'd looked so happy. Her smile was brilliant and there was something in her eyes…something that looked like love. And it wasn't directed at little AJ, not that there was any doubt that she loved the little boy.

It was directed at _him. _

He'd snapped this picture of her as she held her godson during that time when only joy was in her eyes.

It was one of the photos that he'd torn apart that night he'd gotten drunk just before his grandmother had died.

He'd been going through his desk, cleaning it out one Saturday morning, when he'd come across a couple of envelopes from the photo lab. The negatives were still in them, and as luck would have it, they contained pictures from this happier time. He'd had them reprinted and had kept this one on his desk since.

The sight of her smiling out at him, looking so alive, so…_in love, _turned his rage back into sadness, but it also gave him new fortitude. She wasn't dead. She couldn't be. He'd know it if she were. Even if he didn't know where she'd gone, he'd still know if she'd left this world.

Harm stepped over the piles of glass and debris from his earlier frenzy and sat himself on his couch. He studied the photo in his hands, tracing her image with a fingertip. He smiled back at her, even as a tear traveled down his cheek to drop on hers. He brushed it aside, held the photo to his chest, and vowed to do whatever it took to find her.

After awhile, he stood up from the couch, cleaned up the mess he'd made, and went to bed. In the morning, he'd found his key, put it with his dog tags, and went out to face another day without her, determined that by this time next year, she'd be back in his arms.

* * *

"Sir, I have your mail."

Harm looked up to see Petty Officer Coates standing in his doorway, holding a pile of paper and envelopes. He felt like he was coming out of a fog, and a quick glance at the clock told him he'd been daydreaming for the last twenty minutes. Shaking his head to clear it as he stood up from behind his desk, he smiled at the young woman before him and held out his hand. "Thanks, Jen." He quickly flipped through the pile and, finding nothing much of interest, was about to set it on his desk when a loose postcard fluttered to the ground.

He bent down to retrieve it, the mail in his other hand dropping unceremoniously to the floor when he saw who it was addressed to.

_Ms Sarah MacKenzie…_

_Sarah…_

_Mac…_

His hands shook and his heart pounded with the adrenaline coursing through his body as he slowly stood back up. He flipped the card over, surprised to see that the writing on it was blurry…until he blinked and realized his eyes had filled with tears.

_Georgetown Self-Storage._

He skimmed the short note that spoke of her being overdue on the rent for it. If she didn't respond in ten days, she would forfeit her items.

Harm reached under his collar and pulled up his dog tags. He dangled them in front of his face, looking hard at the little key he'd found so many months ago.

_Could it be?_

* * *

_0908 Local_

_Georgetown Self-Storage_

_Georgetown _

Harm walked down the row of storage units, the blue of their doors glaringly bright in the hot summer sun. Her unit was near the end of the aisle, and Harm's steps slowed the closer he got. He was terrified this would be another false lead.

He had paid the rent on the unit for another three months plus the late fee, but he didn't bother to ask if the key clenched in his fist was to the unit. He wanted to find out for himself.

Finally, he stood in front of Unit 211. For long seconds he simply stared at it, wondering if he would be able to feel her in this place where she'd once stood, possibly contemplating her very existence. He thought he could, but maybe he was wishing for it so hard it blocked out all reason and he was just fooling himself again.

_No. _Not this time.

Forcing himself to step forward, he opened his hand. He'd been gripping the key so tightly that the shape of it had been imprinted deeply into his palm.

Harm grasped the key with his other hand and turned to the lock on the frame of the door. _This was it. _

The key slid in easily and he nearly cried right there with the relief of it. Excitedly, he turned the key in the lock.

Nothing happened.

_No…_

_Not again…please, God, don't let this be another dead end…_

In his current emotional state, he couldn't even imagine asking someone in the office to help, and he wanted to sink to his knees and sob. He didn't give a damn that he was out in public. Out of his frustration, he wrenched the key in the lock, turning it hard as it dug into his finger.

And then he heard it.

Just a little creak.

He held the key in place and turned his head.

The door creaked and groaned again and started to rise.

_Thank you thank you thank you, _he rejoiced in his head. Once the door was completely open, he stepped inside. There were several nondescript boxes stacked against one wall, with a few items of furniture opposite them. Harm didn't recognize any of the items at first, but then he saw it…

The little table that used to sit by her door, the one she used to carelessly toss her keys onto when she returned home each night…

The one made by her uncle in the Leavenworth wood shop, her name beautifully carved in the wood…

He felt the pull of the table drawing him ever closer to it. To _her. _Fearing this was all another dream, a hallucination born of wishful thinking, he stretched out his hand. He ran it over the blessedly solid piece of woodworking, breath hitching as he felt the letters of her name under his fingers. He hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until he looked down and saw only blackness, and for a moment he felt sheer panic. Maybe this was just a dream…but it couldn't be…

Harm forced his eyes to open, took a deep breath, and looked down.

This wasn't a dream.

This time he watched his hand as it traced her name again, and in that moment, he knew he'd find her, every doubt of it he'd ever had disappearing in a heartbeat. His fingers continued to dance across her beautiful name, a tactile mantra, and her name and a vow fell in a whisper from his lips.

_Sarah Jane MacKenzie…_

_I'm bringing you home._

* * *

_End Chapter 6_


	7. Comfort You

_A/N: Here's 7! I don't have much to say, just that the next time I post, it'll be a chapter of Letters to Harm. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 7: Comfort You**

_April 2004_

_1005 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

Sam stifled a yawn. She was only two hours into her shift but felt she'd been there a week. Last night had been another rough one; nightmares of Para—_that place, _she corrected, had filled her night, alternating with dreams of _him_ and his harsh words to her the last time she saw him.

Since she'd broken it off with Ian, her nightmares had grown more frequent. Last night wasn't the first night she'd woken up screaming, her nightgown soaked through and the sheets wet beneath her. She had no idea why her breakup with Ian seemed to trigger these nighttime horrors; honestly, she thought she would be long past the effects of that time in her life.

She laughed ruefully to herself. _Long past? _Hard to be past something you'd never even dealt with.

When she'd returned from that place, she'd gone immediately back to work. She'd been debriefed by the appropriate agency and sent on her way. There had been no counseling, no mention of what she had gone through, and she'd just relied on her inherent fortitude and resilience to get her through. Sure, there was the fact that she'd moved halfway across the country and more, but one could only handle so much…

Mac went about the store, straightening the shelves as she passed through the aisles. As she moved a jar of huckleberry jam back into place, she caught a glance at her left hand. She still bore the marks of the burn she had endured last month the night she'd pulled his picture from the fire. Most would fade with time, but there was one area that would always bear a scar.

That night, once she'd cried herself out, she'd gotten off the floor, gasping at the excruciating pain in her hand. She had gone into the kitchen and run it under cool water for several minutes, the pain increasing exponentially every time she pulled it from under the faucet. Eventually she wrapped it in gauze and went to bed, only sleeping minutes at a time due to the pain.

Ever the dutiful employee, she'd shown up on time to the shop and had gone about her business, ignoring Mary's concerned glances all morning. The pain, despite the ibuprofen and Tylenol she'd taken, made her sick to her stomach and she finally ended up losing the contents of her meager lunch in the bathroom. Unfortunately, or fortunately, perhaps, Mary was waiting outside for her.

"Sam? Are you okay?" The sound of her employer's voice startled her and she tripped a little, catching herself with her injured hand on the nearby desk. That sent a jolt of agony through her and she couldn't bite back the cry of pain.

"Sam, my god, what happened?" Sam just shook her head, clutching her hand against her chest.

"What happened to your hand?" Mary persisted, and finally Sam admitted that she'd burned it the night before. Mary insisted on looking at it; she'd been a nurse in her previous life and Sam knew she wouldn't take no for an answer. Gingerly, she held out her hand to the older woman.

Mary carefully unwrapped the gauze around her hand. When the air hit it, Sam let out a hiss of pain. "Oh, _Sam_," Mary said when she saw the damage. There were blisters surrounding a small area lighter flesh along with plenty of angry red skin. "Have you been to a doctor?"

Sam shook her head, blinking back tears.

"Well, you're going now."

"Mary—"

"No. You are going and that's final." Mary spoke with determination and for a moment Sam pictured her as a marine.

"Mary, I-I don't think I can drive myself there. I walked here today…"

"Of course not, Sam. I'm taking you."

"But, the store—"

"I'll have Laura come in for a bit." Laura May used to work at the shop with Mary before she retired, but still came in now and again to help.

"No—I'm sure it'll be fine—"

"Sam, you have second- and third-degree burns. Yes, that light area is likely a third-degree burn. You need it looked at. You are at risk of developing an infection and I know it hurts horribly. You'll need something for that too."

_Not that I'll take any of that, _Sam thought to herself. She wasn't going to risk another addiction.

"Now, let me call Laura. You just sit down and rest, and when Laura gets here, we'll go to the ER."

"Can't we just go to the clinic?" The ER seemed so…_excessive._

"No. They won't have anything much for pain there and I think you need the resources of the ER."

"I don't need—"

"Oh, would you just stop being so stubborn?" Mary snapped, and Sam's eyes immediately filled with tears. Mary looked instantly contrite. She wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and led her to a chair. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'm just worried and I know you…you never let anyone do anything for you, even when you really need it. For once, let me help you, okay?"

Sam finally nodded, and Mary turned and reached for the phone on the desk. Watching Mary make the phone call, Sam's tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks. She could barely admit it to herself, but having someone take care of her felt good. She was blessed to have found this woman who had given her a job, her friendship, and, though she wasn't quite old enough to be her mother, she was someone who filled that void just a little.

Mary let Sam know that Laura would be here in about twenty minutes, and then they would be going. "You'll be okay back here while I go back out to the floor?" she asked, and Sam nodded. The older woman turned to leave, but Sam stopped her. "Mary—"

"_Sam…"_ Mary said with a hint of warning.

Sam just smiled through fresh tears. "Thank you." Mary's face broke out into a smile as well.

"You're welcome, sweetie."

* * *

Later, Mary brought Sam home, fed her cat, got her a sandwich, and then made some tea for the both of them. Sam knew as they sat together at her kitchen table that Mary had many questions such as, "What possessed you to reach your hand into actual flames?" Sam decided to come clean…to a point.

"I suppose you want to know why," Sam spoke first.

"For starters." Mary agreed.

Sam sighed. It had always been difficult for her to open up, especially now, circumstances being what they were. She took a deep breath. _Here goes nothing. _

"I broke it off with Ian last night," she started.

Mary looked up from her tea in surprise. "Oh, Sam, I'm sorry. I thought things were going well with you two." She laid a hand on Sam's arm.

"They—they were, but…"

"But?"

Sam sighed again. This was the hard part. "He…he isn't…_him." _

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Him?"

Without a word, Sam stood up and walked out of the kitchen to her bedroom, crossing to her dresser and seeking out the little box that held his photograph. There wasn't much of it left, but his face had remained undamaged, his flyboy smile and sea green eyes still shining out at her. She returned to the kitchen and handed the photo to Mary, watching as the older woman studied the photograph.

"This is what you pulled out of the fire?" Sam nodded. "I'm sorry you almost lost it."

Sam shook her head. "Don't be. I didn't lose it in the fire; I threw it in there."

Mary squeezed Sam's arm. "Why, sweetie?"

Sam blinked back tears. It took her a while, but she finally managed to answer Mary.

"Because…because I was just so sick of holding onto the idea of him…I've loved him for years, but we could never get it together, and then something happened that totally broke us. The last time I saw him, we parted badly, and shortly after I decided I needed a change of scenery. It was just too hard to be in the same city as him."

Mary nodded in understanding. "So you came here."

Sam nodded as well. "Yes…I got rid of everything that reminded me of him, except this picture, and moved somewhere entirely different than what I was used to. I tried, Mary. I tried to let him go. I tried with Ian, but then I would look at this picture again and realize I still wasn't over him. Last night, Ian kissed me, and I just couldn't do it anymore, couldn't do that to Ian. So, I had to end it. It wasn't fair to Ian to keep trying to feel something I don't think I'll feel for anyone else ever again."

"Oh, Sam…" Mary's voice was full of sympathy and Sam felt the older woman's arm go around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry."

Sam swallowed hard. "Last night I got so mad at him," she continued, motioning to the photograph. "I got so mad at myself. I just wanted to be free of him, so I—I made a fire and tossed him into it. Only I couldn't let this last bit of him go…I-I just couldn't…and, here I am…" Sam couldn't keep the tears at bay anymore and broke down sobbing. It was all too much.

She felt both of Mary's arms go around her, and for once, she allowed someone else to comfort her.

* * *

"Sam?"

Sam realized she had been daydreaming for quite some time as she stood before the jars of jams and jellies, just staring down at her scarred hand. She turned to her boss and friend and gave her a small smile. "Sorry, Mary…I lost track of what I was doing."

Mary smiled back at her. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I was just daydreaming."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "About anything in particular?"

Sam shrugged. _It's what I always dream about. Him._ "Not really." She started to move down the shelves again, tidying and straightening, fully aware of Mary's eyes still on her.

"Sam?" Mary called out when she was halfway down the short aisle. She turned back to face her employer.

"Yes?"

Mary's face was the picture of concern. Sam knew she must look a fright; no amount of makeup existed to cover the dark circles under her eyes caused by another sleepless night.

"Honey, are you really okay? You look so worn out."

Sam couldn't lie completely to Mary anymore. "I am. I—I didn't sleep very well. Nightmares."

"Oh, honey, again? I'm sorry. Look, I'll be fine here. Why don't you go home and catch up on sleep?"

Sam had never taken Mary up on such an offer before, but this time, she truly felt awful. She wasn't sure she actually wanted to sleep; she still felt the nightmares close to her, but a long soak in her tub followed by a hot cup of tea while wrapped up in her fluffy bathrobe would be wonderful. She could curl up on her couch with Nicodemus and read the book she'd checked out of the library the day before.

"Actually, Mary…I'd like that a lot. I'm kinda worthless here today."

Mary waved away Sam's criticism of herself. "You'll never be worthless, sweetie. Go grab a few pastries and get yourself home, okay? That's an order." Mary smiled broadly at Sam; she couldn't have known the effect those last words would have on her younger employee.

_That's an order._ Hearing the familiar phrase caused Sam's heart to jump into her throat. The reminder of another life made her want to curl up into a ball and cry; she wouldn't have expected such a strong reaction at this point, but in her weakened state, she was far more sensitive.

"Thanks, Mary," she mumbled, and quickly headed back to the employee area to gather her things. She didn't bother to take the offered pastries; instead, she grabbed her jacket and without even putting it on, she was out the door.

* * *

Mary watched Sam quickly walk down the aisle toward the employee area. She was worried about the young woman. Sure, Sam always had an aura of sadness about her, but in the last months there was a heaviness there as well. Mary was sure there was even some anger, though she knew it wasn't ever directed at her. Sam was struggling with something, even more so than when she first arrived here. Mary only hoped that Sam would be able to open up to her again soon.

When she'd first seen Sam standing by the jams, staring down at her hands but clearly not focused on anything actually around her, she immediately thought of the day she'd taken the younger woman to the hospital for that horrible burn.

Mary's heart had broken for Sam, still grieving so for the handsome man from her photograph. It was obvious the two would have made a striking couple. Mary wasn't the most romantic of people, but even she couldn't deny that the two of them seemed made for each other…and that was just based on a single, singed photograph.

Mary sighed. She wished she could do more to help the beautiful woman who had brought so much to her little shop and her life. She would continue to do what she could, and maybe someday the expression in Sam's lovely amber-colored eyes would match the smile she shared with everyone around her.

* * *

_August 2004_

_0708 Local_

_Sam's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

_I'm bringing you home…_

Sam shot up in bed, disturbing Nicodemus who jumped away from her with a high-pitched meow. She had the day off and had intended to sleep in to make up for the sleepless nights she often had, but here she was, awake, heart pounding, and she didn't even know why. She didn't remember any dreams…but there had been words...

_I'm bringing you home…_

The words echoed through her mind, and she could have sworn they were in _his _voice. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sound of him. _Please stop. Please…_

_I'm bringing you home…_

There was only one problem with that…

Samantha O'Hara, once known as Sarah MacKenzie, had no home.

* * *

_End Chapter 7_


	8. Searching

_A/N: I'm kinda meh about this chapter—it is really a means to an end and I wanted to get something out there—the muse dictated that I work a chapter or two ahead before I went back to this one, so, sorry for any delay. And with that…_

**Gone**

**Chapter 8: Searching**

_August 2004_

_Saturday_

_1312 Local_

_Harm's Apartment _

_North of Union Station _

Harm sat on his living room floor surrounded by piles of Mac's things, searching for something to lead him to her. He'd been at it for the last three hours, ever since he'd taken the boxes from her storage unit and loaded them into his SUV. There were eleven of them and thus far he'd made it through about a third of them.

A couple of the boxes had contained books, books he remembered from her apartment. He thumbed through each one of them from the paleontology texts and law books to even a few rather tawdry romance novels. _Pretty naughty, marine. _He smiled to himself; he never would have thought she was interested in that particular genre. His smile turned to tears when he flipped open her law books and saw her flowing script in the margins, a bittersweet reminder that Sarah MacKenzie had once handled the objects around him.

One box held a few knickknacks that he remembered from her apartment as well, and yet another held items from her office.

That one was a hard one.

How many times had he been in her office and how many times had he teased her with that dinosaur model she had on her desk? How many times had she tried not to laugh but always gave in? He ran his hand over Trevor T-Rex almost reverently, inanely wishing that the dinosaur would tell him where Mac was. Trevor…he tried to remember how she'd come up with that name. _Oh, right. He_ was the one who'd actually named that stupid dinosaur. She'd rolled her eyes at him then, but the name had stuck.

Harm set the dinosaur model down and reached in the box again. This time he pulled out her nameplate and felt a stab in the gut as he traced the letters on it.

_Lt. Colonel Sarah J MacKenzie_

God, she had a beautiful name.

Harm dropped the nameplate in his lap and pinched the bridge of his nose; he'd never get through all of this if he couldn't keep it together. He took several deep breaths then set the nameplate aside to reach in for more.

He remembered each and every item that was packed in that box. He remembered where she kept them, how she'd arranged them. He had the urge to knock everything off the shelf in his, no, _her _office and put her things up instead. Of course, he wouldn't do that. He certainly wouldn't want to explain how he'd taken things from her storage unit; he hadn't even told Harriet he'd found the key.

Once Harm had finished with that box, he hefted another one off the stack and tore it open. There were a few books on top, one being another one of those romance novels, much to his amusement. He set those books aside, realizing as he removed the last book that this box was full of her photo albums. He wondered…was _he_ in there? His hand shook a little as he reached down for the first album…

_No. _If he started on those photobooks now, he wouldn't get to anything else and he'd probably end up sitting on the couch with them, drinking with the express purpose of getting drunk.

He forced himself to push that box aside and dove into the next one. The first thing he saw was a flash of navy-blue fabric. He opened the box completely and noted how sequins on the dress caught the light and sparkled. He recognized it; it was the dress she'd worn to the Sudanese Embassy the night yet another one of Webb's operations had gone awry. God, she looked beautiful in it and it took everything he had in him to seem indifferent to her appearance when she'd returned to JAG that night. Inside all he could think about was kissing that beautiful neck of hers, working his way down to those beautiful breasts; the sight of the perfect amount of cleavage she'd shown made all the blood in him rush to his groin. He very nearly embarrassed himself as they danced that night, the short jacket of his mess dress uniform woefully inadequate to hide anything, and he'd been so close to asking her to spend the night with him.

He _should _have asked her to spend the night. Because then she'd still be here, and he wouldn't be sitting here alone, desperately searching for some clue to her whereabouts.

She had other gowns in there. He recognized the one from the Surface Warfare Ball, the one where Brumby showed up to 'surprise' her. She'd been surprised, alright. The looks she'd given him that night…he should have done something then. But he was with Rene…and she…she had that damn ring.

Hours later, Harm was ready to look at the photo albums. Thus far he hadn't found any clues to her whereabouts, and there was a growing fear inside that he never would. _Please, please, dear god, let there be some clue..._

The first album he found had only a few pictures with her as a child. She was adorable, with long chestnut locks, those big eyes looking out at him, yet she looked so sad. Obviously, he knew at least a few of the reasons for that. There was only one where she looked happy; she must have been about nine or so and was standing next to an older woman that he presumed was her Iranian grandmother.

There was a huge gap in time then; nothing from her adolescence, which was certainly not surprising, and then the next photos were from her marine boot camp followed by several from her college days and her various duty stations.

The next album contained pictures from law school and from her time in Bosnia, and then came the ones from JAG.

So many of them were of him—alone, with her, with others…she had a lot of the same pictures that he had and as he studied each one, he felt the familiar sting of tears. It took him a long time to get through that one, and then, suddenly, there was just one left.

This was the last item from her storage unit. The last chance for a clue. He'd already gone through the furniture she'd stored; there'd been nothing there. He had her uncle's table here and he already knew the one drawer in it was empty.

There was a part of him that didn't want to look at this last bit of her. If he didn't look at it, he could still maintain the hope that it would show him the way to her. Unfortunately, he was old enough to know that delaying the inevitable was useless. With a small sigh and a huge amount of trepidation, he opened it.

And found nothing.

Oh, there were pictures…some of him, some of Chloe…but absolutely nothing to show him where to look next.

A crushing grief came over him, followed by anger. Fury. Rage. He threw the album across the room, watching the pages fly out as it struck the wall by his front door. The book was essentially a three-ring binder, and the rings had popped open, spilling the contents over the floor. He stood up from the floor, cursing the sharp pain that lanced through his back. It had been stupid to sit there so long. Stupid to think that he'd find something in those boxes to lead him to Mac. Stupid to think he'd be able to find her. _Stupid. _

He stalked over to the broken album on the floor and gave it a kick. And then another and another. By the time he finished, the book was in pieces and he was out of breath. Not because of the exertion, but because the pain of it all was crushing the life out of him. And it wasn't enough to destroy the album that had destroyed his hopes.

His fist shot out and hit the wall, knocking a hole in it, but he ignored the pain in his hand and hit the wall again.

And then spent the night with a bottle of bourbon, desperate to dull the pain.

* * *

_Sunday_

_1000 Local_

_Harm's Apartment_

_North of Union Station_

Harm stumbled out of his bedroom, nearly tripping as he went down his stairs. His head pounded and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but he felt like punishing himself. It was ridiculous that he'd gotten so drunk. Over a recovering alcoholic, no less. His hand hurt, and for a moment he wondered why.

Then he saw the holes in the wall, and he remembered. Cursing himself even more for his stupidity, he stepped over to the mess he'd made. He may as well go out today and get supplies to fix the wall. He had nothing better to do, no court cases immediately pending, no plans with anyone from JAG, and it was going to be one of those miserably hot August days in DC. Harm took a closer look at the holes and made mental notes of what he would need for the repairs. As he stepped forward, his toe struck something.

_Damn. _It was one of the remnants of that last photo album.

With a sigh, he bent forward to start picking up the mess, cursing the self-induced pain in his head. He reached for a piece of the album cover, and as he did so, a scrap of paper fluttered out. He snatched that up too, but as soon as he caught it in his hand, he felt it. _Her. _He uncrumpled what appeared to be newsprint, noting that it looked like a classified ad for an apartment. There was a listing number, street address and a phone number, but no city and he didn't recognize the area code.

Harm moved to the kitchen to find his phonebook. He flipped to the right page and searched the map for the area code in question. _There. _

Montana.

Montana…could she have been there all this time?

_Yes. _Harm knew with everything he had in him that she was somewhere in that state. His Mac GPS may have been faulty of late, but their connection…it was still there.

With shaking hands, he reached for his phone and dialed the number from the ad. The call went immediately to voicemail and he was disappointment, but then again, it was Sunday.

_"You have reached National Parks Realty of Kalispell…"_

Harm hung up the phone. Finally, somewhere to search.

Harm spent most of the rest of the day searching the internet for…what, he couldn't really say, but he knew he'd know it when he found it. He started looking at newspaper websites, but he could only read so many articles before he was required to get a subscription. He would have done that, but it was already clear to him that the online access wasn't that great or complete. He then went to the TV station websites, but the stories only went back a couple of weeks. He made plans to go to go to a library and search the archives for more articles, working backwards until the time of her disappearance. He was also going to call the realtor office from the ad as soon as it opened at 0830, 1030 his time, tomorrow.

Yes, _finally_, he had a plan.

That night Harm slept peacefully for the first time since he found himself in the brig, accused of a murder he didn't commit.

* * *

_Monday_

_1031 Local_

_JAG Headquarters_

_Falls Church, VA_

"_National Parks Realty of Kalispell, Kelsey speaking." _

Harm's mouth had suddenly gone dry. He sensed he was so close to finding her and it frightened him as much as it excited him. Truthfully, there was a part of him that feared he'd gone off the deep end and it was just wishful thinking that he was closing in on her. He swallowed, desperately trying to create some saliva so he could speak.

"_Hello?"_

"Uh, yeah…hi. My name is Harmon Rabb and I'm calling about a listing for an apartment?" He cursed himself for sounding like an awkward teen.

"_What's the listing number?"_

"Um, it—it's, uh, five, uh-five-five-three-two-uh, three." And to think he was a lawyer who made his living talking.

"_Okay, give me a moment and I'll pull it up. Hmmm, that's an old listing and it's no longer available. I can see if there is anything else in that building—were you looking for something in Kalispell? It looks like this one is in Whitefish. Hmmm, wonder why the Whitefish office isn't listed…"_

"Um…you said that was in Whitefish?" _Where was that? _

"_Yes, and it looks like there is a two-bedroom available in that unit; your listing was for a one bedroom. Were you looking for a one bedroom?"_

"Uh, yes?" Harm cringed. Kelsey of Kalispell surely thought she was talking to an idiot.

"_In Kalispell or Whitefish?" _

Harm closed his eyes. _Which one, which one…_It wasn't that he was actually looking for any apartment, but he tried to imagine which area Mac had picked.

"Whitefish," he said suddenly, knowing in an instant it was the right choice.

"_Okay…tell you what. I'll transfer you to the Whitefish office. They can probably help you a little more, is that alright?"_

"Uh, yeah. Actually, could you just give me the number? I'll give them a call later today."

"_Sure thing. You ready?"_

"Uh-huh."

"_It's 406-555-2923."_

"406-555-2923?"

"_Yes, sir." _

"Great, thanks."

Harm hung up then and leaned back in his chair.

_Whitefish, Montana…_

_I'm coming, Mac._

* * *

_One week later…_

_1752 Local_

_Pensacola Naval Air Station_

_Pensacola, FL_

As it happened, Harm didn't get the chance to do more research into Whitefish, MT before he was sent down to Pensacola for an investigation. This particular one had a few more twists and turns than the norm, and it wasn't until the afternoon before he was scheduled to fly out that he had a moment to do another internet search. Harm knew things would be going faster and better if he put Bud on the case, but Harm wasn't ready to let Bud or Harriet or anyone at JAG in on this investigation just yet. He wanted something concrete first. He wanted to _see _her first.

He found the website for the _Whitefish Pilot_, the local newspaper. There wasn't much to the site and just when he was resigned to the fact that he'd have to find it on microfiche at one of the DC libraries, he came across an article…

And found gold. Struck oil.

And he knew it.

* * *

**_Employee Foils Robbery at Local Business_**

_Whitefish, MT—An employee of a local favorite, the Monarch Mercantile, thwarted an armed robbery yesterday as she was closing up the business for the night. _

_Samantha O'Hara, who just celebrated her one-year anniversary as an employee at Monarch Mercantile, found herself in a frightening situation just as she was preparing to leave for the evening. _

_James McDougall, 22, broke into the store at approximately 6:45 pm Tuesday evening. He was armed, but that did not stop Ms. O'Hara from defending herself and her workplace. She disarmed him and he was taken into custody shortly thereafter. He was then taken to the local hospital due to minor injuries sustained in the struggle. Ms. O'Hara was unharmed and declined to be interviewed for this piece. _

_The shop's owner, Mary Scott, has expressed her gratitude to her employee. "She's one in a million," she was quoted as saying._

* * *

Harm's heart fluttered in his chest. He knew without a doubt that Samantha O'Hara was his Mac. Call it intuition, call it some psychic connection, but he just knew. He got the number to Monarch Mercantile from information and was just about to call from his office phone when Captain Adam Larson, one of the flight instructors, stepped into the room. He had been one of the point people for Harm during his investigation, and his assistance had been invaluable.

"Commander, you up for a little chow before you call it an evening?"

Harm wanted to make his phone call and adjourn to his quarters, but he wasn't going to turn down an offer from a superior officer.

"Sure, Captain. Just let me log out here." Harm did what he needed to do, then grabbed his cover and briefcase. The two men headed down the hall to the elevators when he suddenly had a thought…

Who knew what kind of caller ID this little Montana shop had? Harm didn't want there to be any sign that he was calling from a naval base, nor did he want to use his own cellphone. So…

"Captain, can I borrow your cellphone? I think mine's on the fritz and I just want to make one call before be head off."

The captain handed over his phone without question. "I'll just be a minute," Harm said as he pulled the hastily scribbled phone number from his pocket.

"No problem. I'll meet you down there—I need to have a word with one of the MP's anyway."

Harm nodded. The captain got on the elevator and as soon as the door closed, Harm checked his watch. 1802. Whitefish, Montana was two hours behind Florida, so he figured the shop would still be open. He dialed, sure that his heart was about to leap out of his throat. The phone rang once, twice, and then a third time before it was picked up.

"_Monarch Mercantile, how may I help you?"_

Harm started to shake. He started to cry, though he didn't realize it. The voice on the other end of the line spoke again, a polite 'hello', and Harm flipped the phone closed.

He wanted to laugh. He wanted to cry, then discovered he was already. He wanted to call her back just to hear her voice again, but he needed to catch up with Captain Larson. He called for the elevator, then thought, _what the hell._ He flipped the phone open and hit redial. This time the call was picked up after the first ring.

"_Monarch Mercantile, this is Sam." _It took Harm everything he had not to say something, but he knew the first time he spoke to her had to be in person. He couldn't let her run again. He ended the call as the elevator arrived, took out his handkerchief to wipe his face, figuring he'd blame his appearance on allergies, then flipped open the phone again. He wouldn't dial her again, but he needed something to remind him that this was real. He called up the list of previously dialed numbers.

_406-555-3826_

_406-555-3826_

There it was, numbers one and two on the list. It _was _real. He ran his thumb over the digits.

"Hey, Mac," he said aloud, and then he did laugh. With joy.

* * *

_End Chapter 8_


	9. Fall into Your Dreams

_A/N: And here is Chapter 9! It's a short one. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 9: Fall into Your Dreams**

_August 2004_

_1838 Local _

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

Sam yawned. It had been a busy day in the store, and she hadn't slept all that well the night before due to her dreams. They actually weren't bad dreams per se, but they were frequent as well as disturbing in that they featured a certain former naval commander that she had been trying to forget.

Most of her dreams regarding _him _were either of them fighting, hurling insult after insult at each other, or of them making love. _Those _were the hardest, really; the dreams would be so beautiful only to be spoiled by a far harsher reality when she awoke. Last night's dreams were just visions of him—in her apartment, in her office, in the shop. He wouldn't say anything; he'd just look up from what he was doing and smile. It was…_bizarre _to say the least.

In the last dream she remembered before she got up for the day, she saw him in her office, dressed in his summer whites. He was holding a picture of the two of them together, both smiling and looking down at a baby. Sam woke up thinking that she missed the picture she used to have of _him _with her and their godson at the baby's christening. She supposed she was dreaming about it because by now her lease on the storage unit she had—no, the storage unit that _Sarah MacKenzie_ had—had run out and her items were likely going to be sold at auction.

That saddened her, but she knew in her heart it was best to let all of that go. For Sarah MacKenzie to be truly dead, there couldn't be any remnants of her left where she used to call home.

The first home she'd ever truly had…

Sam had blinked back tears as she'd gotten herself ready for work. She missed little AJ, missed him more than she wanted to contemplate, and she hoped the little boy was being a good big brother to his new sibling. She wondered if the baby was a boy or a girl, and she wondered who his or her godmother was. Maybe Jennifer Coates? Bud would be dead now if Jen hadn't been there with him.

Sam had known she needed to push these thoughts of Sarah MacKenzie's past down in the recesses of her mind where they belonged. She was Samantha O'Hara now, a woman without a past but hopefully one with a future-a future of peace and happiness.

As she locked up her little house and stepped out into the warm August morning, she realized that in the picture in her dream, _he _was in his dress blues and she was in one of the flowing dresses she'd taken to wearing here. The hair by his temples had been lightly sprinkled with grey, while hers flowed about her shoulders as it did now. _Weird, _she thought to herself, then started the car and headed to the shop.

* * *

Mac realized with a start that she'd spent the last six and a half minutes just daydreaming. She'd done what she'd needed to to close this place up for the night and it was time to get home. She took a step toward the back door, intent on doing just that when she felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. She whipped around and found herself face to face with a gun.

* * *

_1923 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mary rushed into the store only to be stopped by a police officer. He was young, and Mary had never seen him before. "Ma'am, you can't come in here—"

"It's okay, she owns the place," Mary heard Sam call from across the room. The officer let her pass and Mary practically sprinted to Sam, pulling her into a hug.

"Thank God you're okay, Sam! When Laura called—" Mary hugged her even tighter.

Mary had just been washing the last dish from her supper when the phone had rung. It was Laura, who told her in a rush that there were police cars parked right outside the store. The woman had also seen two officers escorting a young man out in cuffs. Mary had been terrified that Sam had been hurt.

"What happened?" Mary asked when she finally released Sam.

"Oh, he thought he was going to make off with a little cash and a little bit of merchandise. I showed him otherwise." Sam waved a hand in front of her face in dismissal. _No big deal. _

"Yeah," chuckled an officer that Mary recognized from her church. "She managed to get his gun and now they're taking him to the hospital for some stitches."

Mary turned back to Sam, eyes wide. "How—how did you—"

Sam shrugged. "I took some self-defense courses a few years ago. They finally paid off."

Mary just continued to stare at Sam.

"I'll say…"

* * *

_The next day…_

_1001 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

"That was the newspaper, Sam. They want to talk to you about the robbery."

Sam looked up from the fall-themed display she was putting together. "No interviews."

"But Sam—" Mary stopped at Sam's pointed glare. By now, Mary knew that once Sam had made up her mind, she wasn't going to change it. "Alright, Sam. I'll let them know." Mary smiled. "They're going to be disappointed, though. You're a hero."

_Hero? She was no hero. She didn't do anything like throw her career away to rescue someone from the clutches of a terrorist…_

"Oh, Mary. I am most certainly not a hero." Mary stepped to Sam's side and laid her hand on the younger woman's shoulder.

"You are to me, dear. One in a million…"

* * *

_September 2004_

_1111 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

She'd had the dream again—the one where _he _was in his summer whites holding the somewhat odd picture from AJ's christening. Sam had wanted a closer look at the photograph this time, but the dream naval commander turned it around and held it to his chest. "Not yet, Mac," he said, and she had wanted to cry at the sound of his voice. She actually did wake up in tears this time, and she knew it was going to be one of those days when sadness would be her companion.

She missed him so much.

Ever since she'd had that first one the day she'd foiled the robbery attempt, the dream came with alarming regularity and it brought forth many unwanted feelings. She was now sleeping with his battered photograph next to her; it saved her from having to get up every night to pull it out of its box so she could look at it.

_Maybe I should get counseling_, she mused as she opened a box containing some antique china. She could speak about him in generic terms; she wouldn't have to talk about him in the context of Paraguay or their time at JAG. He could just be a lost friend she couldn't get over.

She'd think about it.

As she unwrapped each bowl and plate, she noticed that one of the larger serving bowls had a streak of black across it. She finished setting out the rest of the dishes, then picked up the stained bowl, hoping she'd be able to get the mark off of it. It really was a lovely set.

* * *

_Success!_ Sam thought as she brought the now clean bowl back to the antique room. She had just stepped through the door when she heard the little bell on the front door ring, heralding the arrival of a customer. "I'll be right with you!" she called out cheerfully, her mood thankfully having improved since she'd arrived at this place she'd grown to love.

"Take your time," the customer answered back, and the earth fell out from beneath her feet.

* * *

Sam turned around slowly. Her hands were shaking, and she knew she should put the bowl she held down before she dropped it, but she couldn't stop herself from going back into the main room.

He was still tall. Still beautiful. Still had the same stormy eyes. He wore the same faded bomber jacket that over the years had molded itself into his shape so much that it would never feel right on someone else…

But that wasn't entirely accurate. It had felt right on her the night he'd pulled it off his own shoulders and put it around hers on that horrible night Dalton Lowne had died in front of her.

Sam wondered fleetingly if she were still dreaming, but she couldn't be; the sound of the blood rushing in her ears as her heart thudded hard in her chest was too loud. Too real. _Oh my god…_

For the longest time he just stared at her, his eyes traveling over her as if he, too, thought he was dreaming. When his eyes reached hers again, those beautiful lips curved into a sad smile.

"Hey, Mac."

The antique bowl crashed at her feet.

* * *

_End Chapter 9_


	10. Broken Glass

_A/N: Hopefully all this makes sense…trying to post before I leave work. Thanks for all the reviews!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 10: Broken Glass**

_1111 Local_

_Whitefish, MT_

Harm parked his rental at the end of Central Avenue, downtown Whitefish's main drag. The town was beautiful, with its mountain views and quaint shops, and he knew it would be healing for one who had been hurt as badly as Mac. He felt the familiar twinge of guilt at his part in Mac's pain, and he hoped she would forgive him as he headed toward Monarch Mercantile.

The store was about halfway down the street, and Harm slowed his pace as he approached it. He couldn't deny that he was nervous; it had been so long since he'd seen her and was just a bit terrified that she'd throw him out on his ass. He chuckled ruefully at the thought. She was more than capable of throwing him out, but he was going to keep trying until he wore her down or she killed him.

All too soon he was in front of the pretty little shop. He took several calming breaths…well, they weren't calming, really, given he was still as nervous as cat about to be baptized. As he looked in the window, he saw the shadow of a tall, willowy form, and he wondered if it was her.

_Of course,_ it was her.

Harm finally pulled open the door and stepped inside, a little bell announcing his arrival as the door fell shut behind him. He took a few steps forward, then heard her warm, soft voice from another room.

"I'll be right with you," she called, cheerily, and he could feel some of the tension drain from his body.

_She was really here._

"Take your time." Harm was surprised his voice was steady as he called back to her, wondering if she'd immediately recognize his voice. Harm held his breath, frozen in place, as he waited for the woman that had taken over his mind and heart to make her appearance.

Suddenly she was before him. He drank her in, from her soft chestnut tresses that were now past her shoulders, the feminine top that tastefully accented her every curve, and the long, flowing skirt that ended just above her ankles. His eyes gradually gravitated back to hers and he nearly lost himself in their chocolate depths. Every regret he'd ever had about their relationship rose up and he tramped them down; it was time for a new beginning. His lips curved into a sad smile.

"Hey, Mac."

The sound of shattering glass filled the room, and he jumped.

* * *

Sam looked down at her feet, which were now surrounded by shards of the broken bowl. In shock, she knelt down to pick up the larger pieces.

Suddenly, _he _was at her side, kneeling down as well and Sam's hands stilled their movements as she breathed in the familiar scent of him. _Oh, god. Had he always smelled this…this _good? She sat back on her heels and stared at him. He dropped the piece of china he was holding and stared back, and she had to fight the urge to run her fingers through his cowlick.

His fingers tentatively stretched out and brushed over her forehead and down her cheek, his thumb running across her bottom lip before he cupped her cheek in his hand. She pressed herself into his palm and closed her eyes, a tear slipping from underneath her lashes. He brushed it away with his thumb, and the familiar gesture caused a sob to escape her.

"It's really you," he said in apparent wonder, moving his hand to tangle his fingers in her hair. "Oh, Mac…"

He seemed to be searching for something in her face, his beautiful, stormy eyes roaming, until they finally focused on hers again. _"Why?"_

_Why? _The simple question with its not so simple answer suddenly made her furious. _He _wanted to know why after what he'd said to her? After she'd endured the scathing looks, the whispered comments behind her back, the barely civil words spoken to her at JAG? _Why?!_

She abruptly stood, causing him to fall backwards, barely catching himself with his hands.

"_Why?! _How can you…after…after…It's what you all wanted, wasn't it? I got it. Message received, Harm. Mac wasn't going to bother you all again!" Her eyes narrowed at him. "Why are you here? Wait…don't answer that. It doesn't matter; I don't want you here. Just…just go, Harm, and leave me alone!"

Harm sat there, a stunned expression on his face, as she loomed over him. She was seething with anger, her fists clenching at her sides as she now fought the urge to strike out at him. The desire to do so grew too strong, so she saved him and herself by whipping around and sprinting in the direction of the 'Employees Only' area. She made it to the door, but his voice stopped her from opening it.

"Sarah…"

Her hand paused on the doorknob and her back stiffened.

"Sarah, please turn around."

She didn't move.

"Mac, _please..."_

Her shoulders slumped as she listened to him beg and she finally did as he asked. He had managed to get off the floor and was now edging closer to her.

"Mac, I—why…why would you think we would want you to leave?"

She looked at him incredulously. _"Why?!_ Let's see, Harm…_you…_you wouldn't answer my calls, and the last time I saw you, you reminded me of my dismal record with men and seemed more than relieved that you hadn't suffered the same fate. Then there was Bud and Harriet…let's just say they were one hundred percent on your side. And let's not forget Coates, Sturgis…they didn't say two words to me after Paraguay. And we most _certainly _can't forget the admiral! Clearly he didn't care if I returned; if he had, then maybe you wouldn't have thrown your away career for nothing!"

"It wasn't for nothing, Sarah."

"Wasn't it?"

"No, Mac…it was ev— "

"Why _did _you come here, Harm?" she interrupted, suddenly exhausted.

"To find you."

She shook her head. "I didn't want to be found."

* * *

Harm flinched at her words, his mouth opening and closing more than once as he sought how to answer them.

"Then I came to tell you I'm sorry." It wasn't the only reason, god knew, but it was the truth.

She blinked at him a few times, eyes wide with something like confusion, until her face hardened and her gaze turned into a glare. "Well, then. Thank you. Now, go. I just want you to leave. Forget you ever saw me. Forget you even _knew _me."

This wasn't going at all as he had hoped, but he forged ahead anyway. "Not until we talk."

Obvious sadness took over her form as those beautiful eyes he'd dreamt about for months filled with tears. She shook her head. "Harm, there's nothing to talk about." She reached behind her for the doorknob, then backed slowly through the door. It closed behind her with a soft thud.

* * *

Mary watched the exchange between Sam _(Sarah?) _and the man from her picture in silence. She was thankful that the shop currently didn't have any other customers in it, especially when she noticed the man's hand dripping blood onto her floor. She stepped closer, trying to avoid the broken glass around him. He looked lost and, though Mary's first concern was Sam, her heart went out to the tall, handsome man who must have cut himself on the remains of the antique bowl.

She lightly touched his arm and he jumped a little as he looked in her direction. "Harm, is it?" He nodded. "Come with me and I'll fix up your hand." She hoped he didn't need stitches. He looked confused as he glanced down at his hand, his eyes widening when he saw its condition.

"Oh…I'm sorry, I— "

"It's okay. Let's just go see if it needs stitches."

He allowed her to lead him behind the counter where she instructed him to wash his hand until she told him to stop. She pulled out a first aid kit and then closely inspected his palm. She was relieved to find that the cuts were superficial, so she prepared to dress his wounds herself.

"So," she said as she dried off his hand. "You're the one."

"The one?" This 'Harm' still looked a little shell-shocked.

"The one who broke her heart." She wasn't going to pull any punches; she figured she'd only get the whole story if she were direct.

Harm hung his head and Mary could have sworn she saw the start of tears in his eyes. "I think…I think we broke each other's."

Mary nodded. _Fair enough. _This man sure seemed sad and defeated.

At that moment the bell on the door jingled, so Mary quickly bandaged Harm's hand and cleaned up the counter after telling her patron she'd be right with her.

"Thanks, um, Ms— "

"Mary." She smiled at Harm, whom she felt was essentially a good man.

He nodded. "Thanks, Mary." He ran his good hand over his face. "It's taken so long to find her…I have to talk to her…"

Mary sincerely hoped she could convince Sam/Sarah to speak to him; she didn't think the woman she knew as Samantha O'Hara would be whole again if she didn't resolve things one way or another with Harm.

"Harm…take a break. Go across the street to Maggie's Café and get some lunch. I'll talk to her, see what I can do, alright?"

His blue-green eyes clouded with suspicion. "Why? Why would you do that for me, a total stranger?"

Mary smiled gently up at him. "I'm not doing it for you; I'm doing it for her."

* * *

Mac sat on the back step of the shop, shivering in the cool morning air. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms several times before she gave up on being warm, choosing instead to draw her legs up and tuck her arms in between her chest and thighs. She knew she looked miserably pathetic, but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

_She'd been found. _She was at a loss as to how he'd done it; she had been so careful…but now that he had…_oh, god, what if he'd told everyone else?_

_Please, please don't let him have done that…_

Why couldn't he have left her alone? She'd been doing better. Or was at least okay…or…

Who was she kidding…she missed him so much it sometimes hurt to breathe, but better that than be where she was before…always wondering how he _really _felt, longing for him only to be left broken hearted. Every time she'd thought she finally understood him, finally accepted that he loved her, he'd change his mind, leaving her behind to pick up the fragments of her shattered soul. It had happened again in Paraguay and as they both stood at that taxi stand, she decided to set them both free. _Never._ She wouldn't pine over him anymore, and he wouldn't have to feel any more guilt over rejecting her.

Unfortunately, she didn't hold up her end of the bargain, so to speak. She was still pining after him, but she thought she had finally been coming to terms with the fact that she would likely never see him again.

But now here he was…

The door behind her opened and she felt Mary's presence next to her. Sam shivered and was grateful when Mary dropped her coat around her shoulders before sitting down next to her.

"Is he gone?" Sam asked, rather afraid of either possible answer.

Mary nodded.

Sam looked down at her feet. "Okay," she said softly. "That's good."

"Is it?"

Sam's eyes snapped to Mary's. "Well, yes…it-it…well…" She buried her face in her palms. "I don't know…"

The two were silent for a moment, then Mary put her hand on her shoulder. "So…" she said. "Sarah, is it?"

Mac dropped her hands from her face and turned to Mary. "Yeah…Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, United States Marine Corps."

Mary's eyes widened and her eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Really? Well…I guess that explains how you took out that delinquent here last month."

The corner of Sam's mouth rose in a little smile. "Yeah…I guess I did learn a few tricks in the marines."

"I'd say. So…what should I call you? Sarah?"

Sam shrugged. "You can still call me Sam, I guess. That's who I am now."

"Okay," Mary agreed. "You aren't AWOL, are you?"

Mac shook her head with a chuckle. "No…I officially quit. Resigned my commission."

"I see."

"Mary…I'm sorry about…lying to you all this time." She wouldn't blame Mary if she wanted to fire her. She was surprised when her employer wrapped her arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

"Sam…I've always known there was much more to you than what you've told me. Don't worry about it."

_Don't worry about it? _"But— "

"But nothing. You're the best employee I've ever had. You've become a dear friend. Sweetheart…you are the daughter I never had."

Sam's tears began anew at the heartfelt statement from the older woman and it was a while before she could respond.

"Thank you, Mary. You've been so good to me. I never would have made it if I hadn't found you."

Mary gave her another squeeze. "You're welcome, sweetie." The two sat silently for a few minutes before Mary spoke again. "So…Sarah MacKenzie…it does suit you."

Mac shrugged. "I used to go by Mac." The name felt awkward and unfamiliar on her tongue after so long. "Back when I—I"

"When you were with him?"

"Uh huh…but like I told you…we were never really _with _each other. He didn't love me the way…the way I loved…_love…_him." Sam shivered and pulled her coat closer around her.

"Hmmmm…" was all Mary said. Sam waited for the older lady to say more, but Mary merely sat there, a contemplative look on her face.

"_What?!" _Sam finally asked.

Mary's eyes softened. "I think you may be mistaken about that."

Sam blinked at her a few times. "Every time I've thought that, it's blown up in my face. I'm not going to make the same mistake this time."

Mary nodded and there was understanding in her eyes. "How do you think he found you?"

Sam shook her head. "I don't know…I thought I was being so careful. I planned for weeks." She didn't realize it, but her lips were turning up into a tiny smile. "He once told me he always knew where I was."

"Looks like he was telling the truth."

"Yeah."

"So…where were you two stationed?"

"DC. JAG Headquarters." Her throat tightened on the words.

"JAG?"

"Judge Advocate General…we're military lawyers."

Mary's eyes widened. "Wow. I'm impressed."

Sam waved her hand in dismissal. "Don't be. It's just a job…" Sam knew she didn't mean that, even as the words left her mouth. It had always been more than a job. She'd loved it there. They'd been a family…

_Until you went and screwed it up._ Sam's eyes filled with tears.

Mary ran a motherly hand over Sam's back. "I still think you should talk to him. To give yourself closure at the very least."

Sam looked up toward the clouds. "Closure…I'm not sure that's possible with us."

"It's still worth a try."

Sam raised her eyes to the sky. "I suppose so…but you said he was gone."

"I sent him over to Maggie's, told him I'd see if I could convince you to talk to him." At that, Sam immediately leaned away from Mary, glaring at her as she put some distance between them.

"You did _what?!_ Whose side are you on?" She stood up and took a few more steps away.

Mary stood up as well, ignoring the flames in Sam's gaze as she moved to stand beside her. Sam turned her back to her.

"Sam…_Mac…_it kills me to see you hurting day after day. Clearly moving half-way across the country hasn't helped— "

Mac whirled around. "Yes, it did! I didn't have to be around _them_ anymore. I had at least _some _peace. But now he's ruined that. I'll never get _closure _because just when I think I'm free and can maybe breathe again, he's there and I fall for him again. If I talk to him, I won't get closure because it'll start all over again and I-I can't do it…I _can't!" _Mac's shoulders shook with her sobs and Mary took her in her arms.

* * *

Mary held onto Sam…_Mac_ as she cried. It was over quickly, and soon only shuddering breaths were heard from the younger woman.

After a few more seconds, Mac drew back. "I s-still l-love him."

Mary knew that and gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know."

"I miss him."

"I know."

"But it hurts…"

"I know that too."

Mac dropped her gaze to her shoes for a moment then glanced back up. "You think I should talk to him."

"I do."

"He's at Maggie's?"

"He is."

"Okay."

Mac still didn't move. "Mary— "

"Go, Mac. He's waiting for you."

Mac took a deep breath. "Okay," she said again, and then she was gone.

* * *

_End Chapter 10_


	11. Who Let in the Rain?

_A/N: Another update! Unfortunately, I think I've given myself carpal tunnel syndrome…_

**Gone**

**Chapter 11: Who Let in the Rain?**

_1202 Local_

_Maggie's Café_

_Whitefish, MT_

Harm sat in a booth toward the back of Maggie's Café wondering as he picked at his food how long he should wait here before he went back to the store. He'd ordered a simple salad and though it was very good, his nerves wouldn't let him eat much. He prayed that Mary would be able to convince Mac to at least hear him out.

He'd just let the waitress fill his glass with iced tea for the third time when he felt that familiar prickling on the back of his neck. He looked up from his salad and there was Mac, staring straight into his eyes. She started to walk toward him and as she approached, he slid from the booth and stood up. He motioned Mac into the seat across from him and was relieved when she sat down with him. Mac waved the waitress away as Harm pushed his plate aside.

"That salad is better with chicken," she commented idly. He wasn't expecting that, and his eyes widened before he chuckled.

"Well, you know me…"

"Do I?" The two stared at each other for long seconds before Harm looked away. He could see her bring her arms up to rest them on the table, and he marveled at the delicateness of her hands. He'd always been secretly amazed at how her hands seemed so feminine and fragile in his grip, yet be so strong. Unable to help himself, he reached out and covered one of them with his own. Harm heard her gasp at the contact and his eyes flew up again to meet her gaze.

"Mac, I—"

"How did you find me?"

Harm curled his fingers around her hand and squeezed. He stroked his thumb across her soft skin, and her hand stiffened in his grasp. _"Harm—"_

"I'm sorry, Mac. It's just…I'm having a hard time believing that I'm actually here with you."

Mac's gaze was cool, but she didn't attempt to take her hand from his. "Which brings up another question. Why are you here?"

Harm sighed. "To find you, Mac."

"Why?"

"Because…" He really didn't want to be talking about this in a busy café. "Mac, can we—"

She yanked her hand from his. "Table the discussion?" she asked sarcastically, and Harm winced.

"_Maaac…_I'm sorry about all of that." _You'll never know how much. _"I just wanted to ask if we could go somewhere a bit more private."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head. "I'd rather stay here."

He wanted to ask her why, but he figured it was probably a miracle she was even talking to him.

"We'll stay then. It sure is loud, though."

"It's lunchtime."

Harm shifted awkwardly in his seat. She wasn't making this easy. "Yeah…um, did you want something? I'll buy."

"I don't want anything." _From you_. She didn't say them, but Harm heard the extra words, nonetheless.

"Okay."

"Why did you have to find me?" she asked again, biting her lower lip, and some of her stoic manner started to slip. He took heart in that; maybe she would hear him out and forgive him.

"Because I—I missed you. I…um, you're my best friend." He desperately wanted to tell her he loved her, but he didn't want to shout it out above the din of this apparently extremely popular place. In any case, he wanted them to be on a little firmer ground before he stated his complete intentions.

"I'm your best friend. After everything? After you—"

"Mac, I know I said some awful things. I'm so sorry I hurt you. You didn't deserve what I said to you. I was cruel. But did you have to run? Leave? We would have come back to each other; we always have before. I never thought any of that would cause you to run away. Change your name. Your identity."

Anger flashed in her eyes. "It wasn't all about you, Harm," she snapped, then leaned away as far as she could. It wasn't much given where they were.

Harm held up his hands. "I know, Mac. I know. Harriet—"

"Harm, I really don't want to talk about anyone from JAG." He could tell she meant it, but he supposed he'd better tell her he was back there again.

"Um, Mac, I—"

"How did you find me, Harm? I need an answer."

_Ah…a perfect opening._

"Well, you know I was in the CIA—"

"Oh god, you got them involved?!"

"No, no, Mac. I mean, I did ask Webb, but he—well, he was still…recovering." Harm saw a flicker of concern darken her amber eyes, and he had to clamp down on the all too familiar surge of jealousy.

"How—how is he?"

The jealousy rapidly turned to anger but he willed it away; there was no way he'd get back into her life if he acted like an ass.

"He's…better. It was hard for him after…he was drinking…but he's got a handle on it now."

Mac nodded. She didn't need to hear anymore. "So," she prompted him. "The CIA…"

Harm once again fidgeted in his seat. "Well, I got fired. I was just a bit too visible when I landed a C-130 on the _Seahawk_. Not what you want in a spook."

Mac crossed her arms over her chest. "No, probably not."

"So…I was at a bit of loose ends. I hadn't been talking to anyone from before and I missed them. It occurred to me that I needed to make amends, you first. I was going to come see you; I didn't know that you were already gone. But then…" He swallowed hard. After all these months it was still hard to talk about it. "My—my Grandma Sarah died."

Mac sat up and he felt the warmth of her hand on his arm. "Oh, Harm…I'm so sorry."

"Thank you. It was…hard." He lost himself for a moment in the memory of the wonderful woman who had helped raise him, then forced himself back to the present. "I had to take care of her estate, and while I was there, the admiral came to see me." Her hand pulled away from his arm, but he caught it and laced his fingers through hers. He was surprised when she didn't immediately yank them away.

"What did…what did he want?" Her expression was suddenly guarded.

"He asked me back to JAG. Said they were short on lawyers. At the time I didn't know how short, but I knew I missed the navy. JAG. You…" He reached across the table and clasped her other hand, relieved when she didn't pull that one away either. "I said yes, and I didn't find out about you until my first day. Bud and Harriet—" At that her body went rigid, and she glared at him in warning. "Sorry. Anyway, I started to look for you that very day." His smile was sad. "But I didn't find anything until I was looking in my—_your_—desk—I got your office, Mac—and I found a key."

Mac looked bewildered. "Key?"

"To your storage unit."

"How did you find out about that?" She looked even more confused.

"They mailed a postcard to the office after you'd let the lease lapse. I tried the key there…and it fit. I wore that key on my dog tags for the longest time…"

Mac narrowed her eyes at him. "But there was nothing in there that should have led you here…and who the hell told you you could look through my stuff?" She was obviously irritated, probably moving toward angry.

Harm increased his grip on her hands in anticipation of her pulling them away. "Mac…do I have to remind you…for all intents and purposes…you were…" His throat tightened. "You were d-dead."

Mac looked away from him, but not before he saw the shame in her expression. "So then what," she said softly.

"I found a bit of newspaper with an ad for an apartment in Whitefish."

"So?"

"And then I found an article about one Samantha O'Hara foiling a robbery attempt. I knew it was you." A real grin stretched across his face then. "I called the store…and you answered…" He started stroking her hands again with his thumbs. "I'd found you…_finally." _He couldn't hide the triumph in his voice. "I got leave as soon as I could—"

Mac suddenly went pale and her breathing quickened. "Mac?"

"You didn't—you didn't tell…_them…_about me, did you?"

"No, Mac…no, I didn't…but I don't see wh—"

"_You can't tell them!" _she nearly shouted, although the noise in the café made it so that only those closest to them turned their heads.

"Mac, why—"

"_No!_" She yanked her hands away from him and stood, knocking over his glass of water in the process. "I can't do this, Harm. I can't." She stepped out of the booth and nearly ran out of the café, leaving a stunned Harm behind.

* * *

It took Harm a minute to pile some napkins on the spilled water and throw down a couple of bills—someone was going to get a very hefty tip—before he could go after Mac. He rushed out of the café, frantically looking around for her. He finally spotted her halfway down the street but heading in the opposite direction of the shop.

"Mac!" He called, but she didn't slow her pace. He sprinted after her, thankful that she was wearing shoes that might be comfortable while walking amongst the aisles of Monarch Mercantile but were certainly not suitable for running. He caught up to her fairly quickly. "Mac! Just stop! I won't tell them. Just stop and talk to me." He grabbed for her arm, but she dodged him, quickening her pace. He matched it, wondering where she was heading. He decided he wouldn't say anything more until they made it to her destination.

Several minutes later, they were in front of a small cottage. 'Cute' would have been the word he would have used to describe it. She pushed open the gate before the cottage's front walk, not bothering to hold it open for him, then unlocked the front door. She pushed it open and went through, Harm staying close behind her so she couldn't slam it in his face.

"Get out." She hissed, whirling on him.

"No." His voice was firm, despite the fact that she could have him forcibly removed. "Not until we talk."

"We've already talked, Harm."

"No, we haven't, not really."

"It was good enough for me. Now, leave."

"Mac, please…I promise, I won't tell anyone about you unless you say it's okay. I _promise!"_

Mac threw up her hands. "Fine. Thank you. That's wonderful, tremendous, hallelujah. Now, get out."

"Mac, I need to tell you why I had to find you."

"You already told me. You're sorry. We're 'best friends'." She used air quotes to emphasize her rather sarcastic tone.

Harm was growing frustrated…and desperate. He had to convince her to give him a chance. "That's not all, Mac. I—I also came to say I lo—" He stepped toward her, and her eyes were wide.

"Look out for the cat."

"What?" And suddenly Harm felt himself pitching forward, a feline hiss and shriek in his ear.

* * *

"I told you to watch out for the cat."

Harm sat on Mac's couch, an ice pack on his wrist while the striped grey cat sat on the table in front of him, flicking his tail and glaring at him. "You let him just sit on the furniture like that?"

Mac shrugged. "It's his house too."

"I thought you didn't like cats," he said lamely, just trying to keep the lines of communication open.

"I never said that. Besides, Nicodemus isn't just a cat."

"Oh, right…he's also the spawn of Satan."

"Harm…insulting my cat isn't going to get you anywhere." She handed him a fresh ice pack and took the old one from him.

"I thought you said he wasn't just a cat."

She rolled her eyes and went back into the kitchen. At some point during the aftermath of his little accident, it had started to rain, falling in heavy sheets from dark, ominous storm clouds. Mac had turned on several soft lamps and Harm found he liked the cozy little home. There had been a chill in it at first but she'd started a fire, making the small space even more inviting. "I like your house, Mac." He shouted toward the kitchen, jumping when he found her right in front of him.

"Thanks. You don't have to shout, though." He thought he detected a hint of a smile on her face, but then he noticed she had her coat on while her keys dangled from her hand.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm taking you back to your car."

"We can get it later. Tomorrow." He held his breath, hoping she would agree.

"No, we can't. You're going back to—to—where did you fly into?"

"Spokane."

"Kalispell would have been a lot closer," she said, rather snarkily.

Harm shrugged. "Well, Spokane was a lot cheaper and had less layovers, so I still got here faster than if I had flown into Kalispell."

"Whatever Harm, but you're still going back to Spokane and leaving me in peace."

Harm was stressed. His wrist hurt, he'd been losing sleep all week in anticipation of this trip, and he just wanted her to _listen. _"Goddammit, Mac! Just hear me out! I'm sorry. I was horrible to you. I came down there to tell you—to tell you—" His heart hammered in his chest. Mac had gone a little pale again as she waited for him to speak.

"What, Harm. Tell me what?"

"That I—"

There was a brilliant flash of lightening followed by a crash of thunder.

"Harm, we'd better get going before it gets any worse." She zipped up her coat and threw his jacket at him.

"My god, Mac. Could we at least wait until the storm has passed?"

"It's just a little storm—"

"Mac…" After his crash during her rehearsal dinner, there had been no such thing as aa _little_ storm to him.

Understanding flickered in her eyes. "Oh…right. Harm—I'm sor—"

"It's okay. I'd just like to wait a bit. Please."

Mac nodded. "Okay…besides…I think it's hailing now." Sure enough…little pellets of ice were striking the windows.

"Thanks."

* * *

_2128 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Harm shifted on the little couch, only to see Nicodemus sitting on the coffee table and staring at him. He turned to his other side so he wouldn't have to face those eerily glowing eyes but that rapidly became uncomfortable, so he once again flopped onto his back.

The unusual storm had continued to escalate for another hour before finally slaking off. Mac started making motions to leave, and Harm had started to panic. She really was going to send him away. Just as she'd slipped her coat on, however, her cellphone had rung. The news she'd gotten was…well, it was _magical. _

The road to Spokane was closed due to flooding, and there would be no getting around it. Mac had sighed dramatically but had told him he could sleep on the couch and leave as soon as possible tomorrow. He'd agreed, although he was certainly going to try to get her to let him stay. He mused that it would just be easier if she'd give in; he certainly wasn't going to let her slip away again.

She'd rather sullenly served him an actual homecooked meal—leftovers from the day before, and she'd practically thrown his plate at him when he'd asked where it had come from. "From me, Harm. I _can _cook, but if you don't want it…" He assured her that he did, in fact, want it, and he was sure it pleased her when he very sincerely complimented her on it. It was delicious…even if it did have red meat in it.

He'd helped her clean up, then found himself sitting next to her on the couch. She didn't have a TV, which surprised him, but she'd just shrugged when he asked about it. She'd thrown him a book of crossword puzzles and told him to go to town, while she pretended to read. After another hour, he'd looked over at her and finally noticed the scars on her left hand.

"Mac, what happened to your hand?" He then reached for it, but she'd snatched it away.

"Nothing you need to worry about. I'm going to go to bed. There's sheets in the hall closet; you can make up the couch."

_Yes, so much for hospitality..._

"Hey, Mac!" he'd called out to her as she headed down the hall.

"Yes, Harm?"

"Thanks for letting me stay. I'm really glad I found you."

She'd only nodded, then turned and quickly made her way to her bedroom. He'd heard her turning the lock on the door after it shut and, after a few minutes of just sitting alone on the couch, he'd gotten up, found the sheets, and gone to bed.

* * *

_2130 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mac closed her bedroom door behind her and made sure to engage the lock. She rested her forehead on the cool painted wood and finally let the tears she'd been holding in since she'd left the cafe fall. Why did he have to come here? And why was she acting like this? He was obviously contrite, and she was just being a bitch. She took a moment to explore the why of it, and all that she could come up with was trust. She didn't trust him. She wanted to, but it terrified her. After everything that had happened…

_At least talk to him, _her inner voice had admonished.

She knew she should talk to him. She had meant to today…but she'd become overwhelmed by everything and just reacted. She'd done something similar in Paraguay, she knew, although clearly the situations were different.

Mac moved from the door and undressed, throwing on a tank top and shorts from the floor before sliding in between her sheets. She immediately curled up into a ball, then quietly cried herself to sleep.

* * *

_0133 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

That damn cat was staring at him again. Every time man and feline locked eyes, the demon spawn's tail would flick back and forth, and Harm wondered if he'd wake up in the morning with half his face clawed off. "I swear, Nic," he said, feeling ridiculous defending his honor to a cat, "I'm not here to hurt her. I love—"

And suddenly the quiet was shattered by a blood-curdling scream.

* * *

_End Chapter 11_


	12. Change of Heart

_A/N: It's a long one! And now I've reached the end of what I had already written. So, no more this weekend! I'll be updating Letters to Harm next, methinks…but my eyes are burning and my arms hurt so I suppose I should take a few days off. Thanks for reading…even if Mac was kinda salty the last chapter…_

**Gone**

**Chapter 12: Change of Heart**

_0135 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

She wouldn't stop screaming and he couldn't get to her.

He had been talking to that damn cat of hers when the sound of her scream filled the air.

Before he even realized it, he had jumped from the couch and gone running toward Mac's room. He knew the door was locked so he resorted to pounding on it, knowing full well that she was in no state to acknowledge him. Her cries continued to pierce the night, shattering the Montana quiet, while Harm futilely tried to get her to open the door. Nicodemus paced back and forth beside him, obviously just as worried about his mistress as Harm was.

Finally, in an act of desperation, he stepped back, dropping his shoulder and ramming it hard into the door. The door burst open, and the woman on the bed scrambled up to the headboard where she cowered, whimpering and sobbing.

Harm rushed to the bed and scooted over to her, taking hold of her wrists as he called her name. She fought him but he held on tight. Her clothing was soaked through with sweat, as were the sheets beneath her. "Mac, it's me. It's Harm. You're having nightmare. Wake up, please, honey." Harm wrapped his arms around her and started speaking in her ear. _You're safe. I'm here. No one's going to hurt you. I've got you. _Several minutes later, Mac raised her head. "Harm?"

"I'm here, honey." Mac sighed and laid her head back down on his shoulder, snuggling in closer much to his delight. But then she suddenly pushed away from him.

"_No!"_ she cried, scrambling to get out of the bed. She stopped between the dresser and the wall, hugging herself while huddling in the small space.

"Mac?"

"I don't want— "She closed her eyes and shook her head.

"What? Tell me, Mac."

"I don't want you to—" She motioned vaguely toward the bed.

"Comfort you?"

Mac nodded and looked away. "I don't want you touching me."

* * *

_I don't want you touching me._

Mac's words hung between them, and when Harm didn't say anything back, she chanced a look at him. He looked…_stricken._

"Why—" He swallowed hard but still sounded choked when he spoke again. "Why not?"

_Because it reminds me of how much I miss you, how much I love you. Because if I let you, you'll swallow me up…and I won't survive it when you chew me up and spit me out again. Because I want you to touch me way too much and I want nothing more than to be held by you._

"It…_confuses _me," she finally responded.

"How so?" His voice was soft and he spoke carefully, like he was afraid to scare her off.

Mac's eyes filled with tears and one tracked down her cheek. She saw his hand twitch and she wondered if he wanted to brush the tear aside as much as she wanted him to.

"Because…it-it makes me feel like I can trust you again, and I don't want to make that mistake— "

She looked up as Harm gasped. He'd remained stoic when she told him 'never', but she had seen something in his eyes before she'd turned away from him. Now, that same shattered look took over his entire countenance.

His voice was thick with tears that he hadn't yet shed. "Mac, I…you…you can trust me…"

"Harm…"

Harm got up from the bed, but to her relief he didn't approach her. He simply sat down again at the foot of it, watching her until she started to squirm.

"Mac, you can trust me," he said again.

"I-I don't want to. It hurts too much. Just when I think I've got you figured out and we're on the same page…you switch. I get close to you and…" She shrugged her shoulders.

Harm appeared to be thinking things over. "You know…I could say the same thing about you."

"You could." She couldn't argue with him on that point.

"You ran again." His tone was mildly accusing.

"I did." She couldn't deny that either.

"That hurt."

"I didn't do it to hurt you."

"Then why did you?"

"I wanted to stop hurting myself." She was surprised at how small her voice sounded.

"Everybody thinks you killed yourself, Mac." His voice had taken on an edge.

"I know."

Harm stood up abruptly. "How could you do that to them? To me?" Harm was getting more agitated, but by the look of it, his agitation couldn't compare to Mac's sudden fury.

"How could I?!" She stalked over to him and poked him in the chest. "I told you, Harm. No one wanted me around. _You _didn't want me around. The admiral l-left me t-to…" It pissed her off even more when the tears started to fall but she did her best to ignore them. She started to pace around the room.

"Harm, I know I was awful to you in Paraguay. I know I didn't thank you then. I tried to after, at your-your, well, I tried, but you didn't want to hear it. I can't really blame you…as for back in Paraguay…I know we had a mission to complete. I know you had a concussion after our crash so neither of us was functioning well and I know I should have stayed with you until you woke up, but I-I needed to do _something. _I had all this-this nervous energy…I hadn't slept in so long…because Clay…his s-screams…for hours…I just…I n-needed, and y-you never…I just wanted someone t-to t-tell m-me…to h-hold…"

She stopped her pacing and leaned against her dresser, crossing her arms over chest while she turned her face away from him.

"You wanted someone to hold you and tell you that it was going to be okay."

Mac bit her bottom lip and nodded. She was so pathetic.

"And I didn't do that."

Mac shook her head.

"I'm sorry."

Mac shrugged her shoulders. It hardly mattered at this point.

Harm sat back down on the bed. "Well, I'm here now." He held out his hand to her and, though she looked at it for quite some time, she refused to take it. His arm dropped to his side.

"Tell me again, Harm. Why are you here? Why couldn't you just let me be?"

"Because, Mac…I had to tell you…I'm sorry…and I lo— "

"Don't you _dare _say that. Not now." He couldn't do this to her, not after so many years and after all that had happened.

"But Mac, I— "

"_No!" _

"Why can't I say it?"

_How dense could he be? _"Because, Harm…you haven't seen me in over a year. We haven't had an actual, civil conversation in a lot longer than that. The last time I saw you, you were so—I mean, you hated me, I— "

"I _never _hated you, Mac. _Never!" _he interrupted desperately.

Mac gave a bitter chuckle. "Never…we've both said it now, and neither of us meant it." She ignored the surprise on Harm's face, the way his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"_Maaac…"_

"Look, Harm. I'm going to take a shower. I'll change the sheets first and you may as well stay in here—I won't be sleeping anymore tonight."

She stepped through the broken door, sighing as she surveyed the damage. _Just one more thing to deal with…_

Mac grabbed a fresh set of sheets out of the linen closet in the hall. When she returned to her bedroom, she found Harm had already stripped the bed and was now gathering up her sweat-soaked sheets.

"Just throw them in the corner. I'll take care of them tomorrow…or later today, I guess."

"That's okay. Where's your washer? I can throw them in while you make the bed." He was noticeably subdued.

She wanted to tell him again to just leave the sheets be, but letting him start the wash would at least get him away from her for a few minutes. "It's downstairs in the basement. The stairs are off the kitchen."

Harm nodded and brushed past her. Her bedroom was small, so his arm brushed hers as he passed. She barely managed to control her shiver at the electricity that shot between them.

Mac had been holding her breath and once Harm was gone, she let it out with a whoosh. She quickly made up the bed, surprised when she finished that Harm hadn't yet returned, but a sound from the kitchen solved that mystery. She heard the whistle of the teakettle, followed by the opening and closing of a few drawers. Mac stepped out of the bedroom just as Harm was coming down the hall with two steaming mugs of tea.

"Hey…" He sounded unsure. "I know you like Earl Grey best, but I thought chamomile would be better for this time of night." He held one of the mugs out to her. "A splash of milk and a teaspoon of sugar, right?"

Mac took the proffered mug. "Yeah…thanks. The bed's made up; it's all yours." She made to pass by him, but he caught her arm.

"Mac, could we just sit down for a bit and talk?"

"Harm—" _Just go to bed, Harm._

"You weren't going to sleep anymore anyway, right?" He gave her a sad version of his flyboy grin.

Mac sighed. He wasn't going to quit and, she had to admit to herself, her most recent nightmare still teased her mind and she didn't really relish being alone with her thoughts. "Okay, Harm."

He motioned for her to go ahead of him and they made the short journey to her living room. Mac sat down on the couch and set her mug on the coffee table. Harm sat next to her; he was too close and his presence was overwhelming. She had to move.

Mac shifted in her seat with the intent to scoot over to the far end of the couch, but Harm caught her hand in his. "Mac— "

"Harm, please, don't…" She attempted to pull her hand from his and he tightened his hold on it; at her hard look, he at last released her.

"Sorry," he whispered as she moved away from him. She found she missed the warm roughness of his hand, which was reason enough to stay away.

"So…your dreams…they're about Paraguay, aren't they?" Mac nodded. The nightmares were for the most part; she didn't plan to tell him about the dreams she had about him. "Do you have them a lot?" he continued, turning his head toward her slightly as he peeked at her from under his lashes.

She was too tired to lie. "A fair amount- couple times a week, maybe?"

Harm's brow furrowed with concern. "Have you talked with anyone about them?"

Mac raised an eyebrow at him. _And just who do you think I'd be able to talk to about this, Harm?_

He gave her a sheepish half-smile. "Ah, right." He cast his gaze downward, clenching and unclenching his fists a few times before he spoke again. "You could talk to me."

Mac shook her head. "Harm, I don't think— "

"Mac, I'm about the only one you _can _talk to about it."

"Harm…it's fine. I'm fine. The nightmares aren't as vivid as they used to be." _Just leave it alone!_

"Well, if you ever change your mind…I'm here for you, Mac. Always."

_Always? _Mac mentally snorted. She seriously doubted that. There were sure to be conditions imposed on his declaration. "Thanks, Harm, but really, I'm fine." She picked up her mug and took a small sip of tea to occupy herself while Harm stared at her intently. "What?"

"I like you with longer hair. It suits you." Mac's eyes widened at the change in subject.

"Since I wouldn't have to put it up every day, I decided to make a change." Anything to not have to look in the mirror and be reminded of the marine she once was.

"I like it," he said again. His eyes were soft, and there was something in them that made her want to return to the safer topic of Paraguay. _Paraguay, a safe topic? My, how things have changed, _she thought to herself.

"Harm," she started, not sure exactly how she wanted to proceed. "I, ah, I really am sorry about how I acted in Paraguay. I don't really know why, I…some of it…it's a blur…" And it was a blur. It had bothered her that part of her mind had essentially shut down, leaving her with vague, dull images. Things started to short out for her as soon as she was chained to the torture table. Even Harm's sudden appearance was almost blanked out in her mind. She could picture him standing in the doorway, glaring down at her, see him unchaining her, and then…nothing. Just angry words. His eyes on her as she rested in a tub…_had he called her beautiful? _To be honest, she didn't feel like she had really awakened until Harm had left the admiral's office…after being told to go wrestle alligators or some such nonsense.

Mac acknowledged to herself again that she'd never really tried to work through Paraguay. She'd thrown herself into her work to distract herself from her coworkers' barely concealed contempt, then into her plans to disappear, leaving just her nightmares to work through Paraguay. Paraguay…Paraguay… her pulse started to race and suddenly it was hard to catch her breath.

"Mac?" Harm sounded worried. "Are you—Mac! It's okay! You're okay. I'm here." Strong arms went around her and she was pulled to a broad chest. She was hyperventilating and panicking, as much from the very thought of Paraguay as from the fact that her memories were so dim.

This time she let Harm hold her. Losing her mind was scary.

"Harm, I-I don't remember all of it. I remember Clay screaming, Sadik st-stabbing that awful belly, then killing those missionaries right in front of me, and then that table…but after that…it's just snippets, words. I know what we did…but…" She pulled back from him. "You were mad at me. Why?"

She felt like an idiot asking that. She remembered enough to know that she'd been no picnic to be around, he didn't want her to go in the first place, he couldn't possibly have gotten over his month in the brig yet, and there were things that still needed to be done.

Harm wouldn't look at her and she felt his body tense next to her. "Harm?"

He let out a prolonged sigh. "I was jealous."

That surprised her, though it shouldn't have. She had a dim recollection of a conversation with Harm about having a thing for Webb and then…he'd made that comment _again _about her dismal record with men. But Harm had had no reason to be jealous, right? "Why were you jealous?"

Harm cleared his throat more than once. Apparently, what he was about to say was difficult. "You kissed Webb."

_I did what? Oh…_ "Harm…that kiss— "

"You kissed Webb after I'd thrown away my career for you, saved you from being tortured, saved your _life! _And you kissed goddamned Webb!" He let go of her and stood up to start pacing around the room.

Clearly Harm was still angry.

"Harm, that kiss didn't mean anything."

"Sure looked pretty passionate. And that crap about liking being his wife…"

_Well, this conversation sure has taken a turn,_ she thought to herself.

"Harm, that's what you say when someone's dying—I really thought he was…and he and I went through a lot together. He protected me; I could have been tortured too."

"You almost were. Where was Webb then?"

"Half-dead if you recall! He _would _have died if he'd gone another round with them."

Harm snorted with derision. He stopped in front of her, hands on his hips. "So, you mean to tell me you only kissed him because you felt sorry for him?"

"I felt guilty, Harm. But believe me when I say there never was, nor would there ever have been, anything between me and Clayton Webb."

Harm rolled his eyes and Mac knew then that Harm wasn't sincere in his apologies. She felt a certain sense of déjà vu; despite her shoddy memory of the whole thing, she did recall their middle-of-the-night conversation about their relationship. It hadn't gone well, and it wasn't going well now.

"You know what, Harm? You claim you want to help me with this and you're sorry for what you said to me, but then you bring up Webb again and I feel like we're right back in that hotel room. I've never been so scared in my life as I was back there. Honestly, ever since I was chained to that table, my memory…hasn't been…what it should be regarding Paraguay. _That's _scary to me. Come on…I couldn't have been acting normally. And yet, I know you never once asked me what happened. Nope, you decided to be a jealous prick and treat me like a burden and a common whore! Mac stood then, now furious at this man who had upended the little life she had created for herself. "I'm done talking with you. I'm going to shower, and then I'm going to lie down on the couch for a while until it's time for work. Please…just go to bed, Harm. The bed's pretty comfortable; you'll get a few hours in before you have to drive back to Spokane. I'll say goodbye now; I'll be leaving early for work. I'm assuming you can find your way back to your car?"

"Mac— "

"Goodbye, Harm. All I ask is that you don't tell anyone about me. I know it's an awful thing to let them believe I died, but please, please keep my secret. This is the only way I can live with myself; it was really bad there at JAG and I just want to forget it and have everyone forget me, okay?"

Harm looked utterly dejected. "Mac, no one's ever going to forget you. If you only knew how much they miss you and how sorry they are…the admiral, he— "

"He was going to leave me for dead. Let him think he got his wish." There was bitterness in her words.

"Mac…he regrets so much of what happened. And Harriet— "

"I'm sure was happier than anyone to see me go. You weren't there Harm. I know that's my fault and I'm sorry. I wish you hadn't— "

"Hadn't saved you? You'd be dead now if I hadn't gone down there. Both you and Webb. But you wish I hadn't? _Maaac!" _Harm started pacing around the room again, clearly agitated.

"The cost was too much, Harm. I might have been gone, but you wouldn't have been out for all those months, your friends wouldn't have been without you, there wouldn't have been such disruption."

Harm whirled around. "Do you really believe that? Do you really think JAG would have just gone on, business as usual, if you had died? Do you think _I_ could have gone on? My god, Mac! I _love _you! Yes, I said it. I love you. _I _would have died if you hadn't survived. My heart might still beat, but nothing would have mattered. Your friends would have been devastated. They— "

"They are _not _my friends. They're yours. They made that clear. I'm sure they would have been sad that I'd died, but they would have gone on. And you…you say you love me…but that love has conditions, doesn't it? I wasn't who you wanted me to be in Paraguay, so you turned cruel. Mean. I tried to apologize. I wanted to thank you for what you'd done for me. You wouldn't listen. I guess love only goes so far, huh?" Mac took a deep breath. She shouldn't say what she was about to, but she couldn't help herself. "You know what the kicker is? I'm looking at you now and I want to hate you, but I can't. I _should_ hate you, I suppose, but I don't. I love you. I've tried to stop, so many times, but I can't, and I hate myself for it."

By this time, Mac had stopped by the fireplace. She ran her hand along the mantle, remembering that night months ago when her love for him had resulted in those terrible burns. She felt a twinge in her left hand, a reminder of both the physical and mental pain of it all. Harm had stopped moving and was now just watching her, a sheen of moisture in his eyes.

Mac begged herself to stop talking, but the words kept coming. "I think I started loving you the moment you first took my hand in the Rose Garden. I didn't want to, but I did. And then when we went flying…those poachers—when we spent the night in the cave and you held me in your arms—I pretended that it was real, that we were together—like a damned teenaged girl!

"In Russia, I wanted you, but I knew it wasn't a good time, with your father…I almost asked you to stay the night after that mission at the Sudanese Embassy. I really tried after that to ignore my feelings for you, especially when you started dating Jordan…but that night when I stayed over to protect you…it was so hard not to…not to…"

Harm had stepped closer to her. "Mac, that night…I wanted to…I almost…but Jordan…"

Mac didn't acknowledge him, just kept on with the steady stream of words that she wished would stop. "I almost told you when you left to fly, but what good would it have done? You were leaving…leaving me. After that I tried harder than I ever had to not love you and sometimes I wanted to hate you and then there was Mic…and Sydney—I thought that was my last chance…if you didn't feel what I felt I was going to stop. But…for god's sake, I got engaged to Mic and still I couldn't let you go.

"And then…Paraguay…no one wanted me around and you were gone anyway and you hated me so here I am and I still can't let you go and, I just…I just…_why can't I hate you, Harm?!"_

With that Mac burst into tears, wondering when the humiliation was going to end as she covered her face with her hands. She felt the heat of him before she felt him pull her into his arms. She fought him at first, but finally she collapsed against him. He felt so warm and smelled so good, so _Harm_, that she gave in. It took her a few minutes to realize he was crying too, which only made her cry harder.

Many minutes later, minutes Mac couldn't count despite the return of her time sense months ago, all that could be heard was the sound of their ragged breathing. Finally, he pulled back from her and wiped the rest of her tears away with his thumb.

"Mac," he whispered. "Every one of those times, I wanted to…would have…"

"Why is it so complicated for us, Harm?"

"I don't know, Mac. But, I-I want to change that."

Mac pulled out of his arms then. "Harm…I— "

"I know, Mac. I know you don't trust me anymore, but I want us to try— "

"Being friends again? I-I don't think I can handle more right now, no matter how I…how I feel." _Please be okay with this, Harm. _She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. He didn't say anything for several beats, but finally, he nodded.

"Okay, Mac. That's—that's more than I could have hoped for."

Mac nodded but couldn't meet his eyes. She didn't want to say what she was going to, but she had to.

"Mac?"

"Um, Harm? I still think…I still…you need to—to leave tomorrow, um, today, I mean. I need a little space…this has been a lot to—to process…maybe we could talk on the phone for a while? Get to know each other again? Please?"

A shadow passed through Harm's eyes and Mac's heart started to pound. _But, Mac, didn't you say his love always has conditions? _her inner voice taunted her.

"Okay, Mac. That's—that's a good idea. I—I don't really like it, but—you're right. We need that. And I promise, I won't tell anyone about you. But can I at least fix your bedroom door for you first? It's the least I can do, since…"

"That's fine. Thank you, Harm. And thanks for understanding. I—I've missed you, so much, and I—" She started crying again and was pulled into his arms once more. She wrapped her arms around his waist and held on, and for the first time in over a year, she felt real peace.

* * *

_1432 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

Mac looked at the clock although she didn't need to. Besides, the clock was slow; it claimed the time was 1429, when in fact was 1432. She made a mental note to fix it later as a customer stepped up to order some fancy coffee.

Once she'd completed that order, having enticed the customer into having an apple tart with it, she went about tidying some of the displays and shelves. It was fairly quiet in the shop today, which gave her plenty of time to think of a certain tall, handsome sailor.

After their emotional conversation and reconciliation early this morning, she had been exhausted. Ever the gentleman, he'd told her to go lie down in her own bed; even if she didn't sleep, she'd at least be more comfortable. She'd taken him up on that offer and actually managed another couple of hours of restful slumber. Later, she'd awakened to him in the kitchen making breakfast, Nicodemus sitting on a stool and staring at him as he moved from the stove to the counter and back.

"Does he have to stare like that?" Harm had asked. She'd just chuckled.

"He just finds you fascinating, Harm."

He'd rolled his eyes. "He's probably thinking of ways to kill me."

"That too," she'd said with a grin, then settled into the stool by Nicodemus, eager to taste food made by Harm's hand after being so long without it.

Once breakfast was finished, he told her he'd clean up then head to the hardware store and get the supplies needed to fix her bedroom door.

It was harder than she'd thought it would be to leave this morning and he didn't make it any easier; he looked just as sad as she surely did. Not for the first time since she'd gotten up that morning did she think about asking him to stay, but her mind overrode her heart, reminding her to take things _slow. _

She remembered their parting just six and half hours before…

* * *

"_You'll call when you get in?" Mac asked as she pulled away from his embrace. _

"_Yeah." Harm patted his front pocket. "Got your number right here." She smiled, trying to ignore the tightness in her throat and the prickle of tears in her eyes. _

"_Good. Thanks. I-I'm going to miss you." And then the tears did spill over. Harm was quick to swipe them away with his thumb, and it's warm, familiar roughness nearly made her cry harder. She managed to rein things in, doing her best to ignore the moisture in his eyes. _

Just tell him to stay, _her heart admonished her, but her mind said no, so with one last embrace and kiss on the cheek, she left._

* * *

Mary caught her daydreaming in the local artist aisle. "Sam? You okay?"

"Huh?"

"Mac?"

Mac jumped. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Sorry…just thinking about…"

"Harm?"

Mac smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Is it obvious?"

Mary grinned back. "Well, it is to me…but I can't say I blame you…that man is…_delicious…_hot, handsome, beautiful…"

"Mary!" Mac laughed. "What about Dan?"

"He's the love of my life, but I'm not dead!" They both chuckled again, but then Mac grew pensive.

"Ma—Sam?"

Mac sighed. "I'm just wondering if I did the right thing…sending him away for now."

"Well, I know you're wanting to take things slowly…are you thinking of asking him to stay?" Mary sounded almost hopeful.

"Oh…he's long gone by now…"

"Are you sure?"

"Well, he was going to…and then…" Suddenly, Mac knew without a doubt that he was still at her little house, but he wouldn't be for long. "Mary…can I…I need to…"

Mary grinned. "Yes…go, Sam…Sarah…Mac. Go catch him!"

Mac threw her arms around her boss and friend. "Thank you!" And then she was gone.

* * *

_0944 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Harm flipped his phone closed. He wasn't able to get a flight out of Spokane until tomorrow morning, but he didn't want to press his luck and ask Mac if he could stay another night. The Holiday Inn Airport would have to do. He decided, however, to fix a few other things besides her bedroom door…sure, Mac had a landlord, but the man was elderly and his wife had been ill, so she hadn't wanted to bother him. She'd get to things eventually…

_Sure, Mac…_he thought to himself as he started to work on her leaky bathroom faucet. It was also leaking a bit under her kitchen sink, so he'd tackle that after this.

Harm reached over for a wrench, smiling again at the pink-handled tools he'd found in Mac's garage. His marine could be so girly…

Before he could pick up the tool, he felt a warm paw in his hand. _Damn cat…_

"What, Nic? I'm just fixing things for her. It's not like I'm sabotaging anything!" The cat blinked at him. "Seriously!" The cat's tongue flicked out and he licked his chops…he looked…_hungry. _"Don't try anything, Nic." He knew the cat was plotting…_something._

The cat merely took his paw from Harm's hand and started to lick it.

Harm could have sworn the cat winked at him before the animal lifted his leg and started washing his nether regions. Harm rolled his eyes and went back to his task.

* * *

_1441 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mac made it to her home in record time. She parked her car on the street rather than pulling it into her tiny garage as, to her great relief, Harm was blocking her path. He was up on a ladder, clearing out her gutters. She hurried up the walk.

Harm?" Harm startled a bit, so focused was he on his task. "What—"

Harm climbed down the ladder. "I couldn't get a flight out until tomorrow, so after I fixed your door, I decided I'd take care of a few things around here that I noticed. Don't worry—I have a hotel room in Spokane, so I'll be leaving as soon as I'm done with this." He pointed up toward the roof.

Mac wondered again if she was going to regret what she was about to say, but decided, to hell with it. "Harm—do you think you could change it? Stay for a while?"

Harm gazed at her intently. "Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like you have to, I—"

Mac smiled. "I'm sure, Harm. Stay. Please."

Harm grinned, and before long it became the full flyboy grin she remembered and loved.

"Okay, Mac."

* * *

_End Chapter 12_


	13. Take A Chance

_A/N: Here is a purely housekeeping chapter…and I wonder how it got so long! Thanks for all the reviews!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 13: Take a Chance**

_October 2004_

_1335 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

"Excited?"

Mac looked up at her employer and gave her a sheepish grin. "Yeah…does it show?"

"Not at all, Sam." Mary winked at her, and Mac chuckled. "When does his plane come in?"

"Around two and then he'll have the drive from Spokane." Mac looked up at the clock. _1335\. _She didn't want to admit it, but the anticipation of Harm's arrival had put her time sense on the fritz.

Harm had been able to stay for a couple more days last month and they had had some good talks. For the most part, they'd kept things light, but on the night before he had to leave, she'd had another nightmare about Paraguay. She'd been hard to console so he finally just climbed into bed with her. She awoke in his arms in the early morning and tried to extricate herself without waking him.

No such luck…

* * *

_Flashback _

_September 2004_

"_Mac?"_

"_Go back to sleep, Harm." She tried to slide out of bed, but he caught her arm and pulled her to him. She knew she should tell him to let her go but it was nice to be held against his bare chest. She'd liked it a few nights before too, but that was before they'd talked a few things over, and she'd been hesitant to trust him again. She still had her reservations, but they were in a much better place than they had been when he'd first showed up at the store. _

_So, she let him hold her. _

"_You okay, Mac?" His voice was low, roughened with sleep, and it sent a little thrill through her. _

"_Yeah." She could feel his heart thumping against her back, slow and firm. _

"_That was a pretty bad one." She knew he was referring to her nightmare. _

"_Average," she corrected. It really could have been worse._

"_Maaac…"_

"_Seriously, Harm, it wasn't that bad."_

_His arm pulled her more firmly against him. "But…you wouldn't…I couldn't calm you down. What happens when it _is_ worse?"_

_She definitely didn't want to discuss that—didn't want to tell him how she'd get up and turn on every light in the house, start a fire, tuck chairs under the doorknobs of the front and black doors and the door to the basement, and then curl up under a pile of blankets, Nicodemus on her lap. She merely shrugged when Harm called her name again._

"_You should talk about it. _We _should talk about it."_

"_Harm…"_

_She felt him sigh against her back. He didn't say anything for several seconds and Mac felt her lids growing heavy again with fatigue; Harm was so warm and solid, and she was just so tired…_

"_Mac?" Startled, her eyes flew open. _

"_What?"_

"_You know what I'd do if I could do it all again?"_

_Mac shook her head. _

"_First, I would have taken you off that table and I would have held you—I know it would have only been for a few seconds, but I would have made sure you knew how relieved I was to find you._

"_And then as soon as it was all over, I would have taken you back to that hotel room, sat you down, and told you exactly why I was there…why I gave up the navy. I would have told you that the the navy wouldn't have mattered a bit if I didn't have you. I would have told you once and for all that I gave it all up because I love you."_

_Mac felt the tears slide down her cheeks, but she kept silent as he continued to speak. _

"_You were right, Mac. I knew you weren't acting normally. You were so…prickly, angry…did you know you told me you were stabbed by that poacher, not shot? I should have stopped you right there…but what did I do…I sniped right back. I'm so sorry. Back at the hotel I should have asked… made you tell me what happened."_

_Mac sniffled and she felt his arms tighten around her again. She covered his arms with her own and squeezed his hands. _

"_So, Mac…I screwed up the first time…but I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere. Tell me what happened, sweetheart. Tell me everything. And I promise you…you're safe. Everything's going to be okay…"_

_At that, Mac flipped over and buried her face in Harm's bare chest. He held her as she cried, and when the tears slowed and she could speak again, she told him everything that had happened from the moment she left his apartment in that pregnancy suit until he burst through the door of that shack. She told him about listening to Clay's screams for hours, how fuzzy everything was after that and how sometimes the suppressed memories showed up in her dreams. _

_She told him how she knew she didn't mean her 'never' to him as soon as it was out of her mouth but she just wanted to stop their dizzying dance and at the time it seemed like the one thing she could control in that whole situation. _

_Harm held her close that whole time, softly repeating to her that he was there and that he was sorry. She told him how sorry she was that she didn't defend him more to the admiral and she hadn't realized she'd never thanked him until he was walking out the bullpen doors. _

_One thing she would _not _tell him was what had happened to her at JAG after he had gone. He already knew she hadn't been treated well, and she told him there was no point telling him the specifics. That time was over, and she'd built herself a quiet life here and, though she missed being a marine and a lawyer, she was happy here. The only thing that had really troubled her on a day to day basis was missing Harm so fiercely. _

_Harm had tried to push her a little more on the subject, but she'd snapped at him and started to pull away. She also found herself in tears, begging him to stop asking. He gave in and just held her again until she'd gone back to sleep._

* * *

Later that day they'd had to say goodbye to each other, and it was even harder than she'd thought it would be…

* * *

_Flashback_

_September 2004_

"_You'll call when you get in?" she asked tearfully._

_Harm swallowed hard. "Yeah, I will. I'm going to miss you, Mac…it's been really…uh, hard…" The words caught in his throat. _

_Mac pulled him close to her in an embrace. "I'm sorry, Harm. I just didn't…I couldn't…" She choked up too. _

"_It's okay, Mac." He leaned away from her and cupped her face in his hands. "I'm going to do everything I can to earn your trust again, I promise. And I want you to call me, day or night, if you need anything…or if you have a bad dream. Call me no matter what time, okay?"_

_Mac nodded. "I will." She bit her lip, then looked up at him imploringly. "Harm…you won't…please...don't say anything about me. Please." She saw a shadow fall over his face, and she started to pull away. Harm caught her. _

"_Mac…I promise I won't say anything. Not unless you tell me it's okay. I promise."_

_She studied him for long seconds, then finally nodded, satisfied that he was telling the truth. "Thank you, Harm."_

_He nodded, and she could see a sheen of tears in his eyes. "I have to go, Mac."_

"_I know." She looked down at her toes, then back up again. "Did you need any snacks for the road?" she asked inanely. Anything to delay him just a minute longer. _

"_No, I'm good. Mac, I—" He swiped a thumb under her eye, brushing away an errant tear. "I'd better go…otherwise I might not be able to…"_

_Mac could only nod as he pulled her in for a final embrace. She heard his whispered 'I love you, Mac,' and then he was gone._

* * *

_1430 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mac looked up at the clock once again, noting with disappointment that only five minutes had passed since she'd last checked. Her time sense had totally shorted out in the last half hour, much to her chagrin, and it rather annoyed her that she was getting so giddy about Harm's visit.

With the exception of a few days that Harm was out of the country and one other time, they had spoken every evening. Initially the phone calls had been no more than ten minutes or so, but as the days passed, the calls had stretched to lasting over an hour. They talked about anything and everything for the most part—about her family, his family, their first case together…they even touched on her engagement to Mic Brumby, what had happened in Sydney on the ferry, and the situation with Loren Singer and Harm's arrest. Mac had apologized profusely for not bucking the admiral's order to stay away from Harm. It was hard, but she'd even admitted that much of the reason for not finding a way to visit him in the brig was because she'd been so hurt and angry with him for not letting her in on his investigation into Singer's pregnancy. She'd been humiliated when Agent Gibbs from NCIS had blindsided her with the knowledge of Harm's 'involvement' with Singer and couldn't understand why he couldn't confide in her his suspicions regarding the paternity of Singer's baby. She'd cried and tried to hang up, convinced he wouldn't want to talk to her anymore, but he'd stopped her.

The truth was that Harm fiercely regretted his behavior, not only because it had resulted in his arrest, but because he knew he'd hurt Mac. He'd suspected that Mac's departure with Webb had at least been partly related to the Singer situation, and he'd told her he'd never forgive himself for that. After several minutes of back and forth, of each of them blaming themselves, each of them giving the other sincere apologies, they finally agreed to put that matter to rest.

Mac still refused to discuss life at JAG after Harm's departure; she actually did hang up on him the one time he'd tried pushing her again about it, then refused to answer when he called again the next night. She'd had a horrible nightmare after that, but she refused to allow herself to call him. Harm, however, seemed to sense her distress and, though it was only three in the morning for him, he called. This time, she picked up…

* * *

_Flashback_

_September 2004_

"_H-hello?" Mac answered the phone tentatively, her heart still pounding from one of her more intense nightmares. She tried to hide the fact that she'd been crying as she stroked Nicodemus' soft fur. _

"Hey, Mac…it's me…are you okay?"

"_Yeah, I just—no, no I'm not, Harm." Nic's ears perked up at the sound of his chief rival's name. _

"Nightmare?" _he asked sympathetically._

"_Uh huh."_

"Paraguay?"

"_No…I dreamt that I never saw you again." _

"Oh, Mac…"

"_Harm…I'm sorry about the other night…It's just…I don't…"_

"I know, Mac. I'm sorry…I'll stop pushing. Are we—are we okay?"

"_Yeah…we're okay, Harm. I—I miss you…"_

"I miss you too, Mac." _She heard him take in a deep breath. _"Um—what would you say to me heading out there next month? I think I can get a week off—"

"_Yes."_

"I mean, I don't have to stay that long…I could just come out for a long weekend…or even just the weekend—"

_Mac interrupted him. "Harm—it's fine. Come, please. Stay as long as you want."_

"You sure?"

_Mac rolled her eyes in amusement. "Yes, Harm. I am. Please come and visit me for a whole week next month. Please."_

_Harm chuckled. _"Okay, Mac. I'll put it for leave tomorrow, first thing."

"_Wonderful, Harm. Now…you need to go back to sleep. You have to get up soon." _

_Harm chuckled again. "I do, don't I. Okay then…goodbye, Mac." _

"_Goodnight, Harm."_

"Goodnight…Mac?"

"_Yeah?" _

"I love you." He hung up before she could answer, so Mac found herself talking to the air.

"_I love you too, Harm." _

_Nicodemus stood up from his position on her lap and stretched. He moved closer and lifted his front paws to her shoulders and touched his face to hers. _

"_What is it, Nic?"_

_He let out a soft 'meow.'_

"_Nic…you're going to love him too. I promise." _

_The cat was obviously skeptical as he pulled away from her, but he snuggled close anyway, and they both fell back to sleep._

* * *

Mac forced herself to return to tidying up the store's Halloween displays. Keeping busy would help the time pass faster, she tried to tell herself. She figured Harm had probably just picked up his rental car so it would be at least another four and half hours before he'd get in. Not for the first time she wished flights into Kalispell were more frequent and more economical. _Ah, well…_

"Hey, what's a guy gotta do to get a cup of coffee around here?"

_Wait, what? _Mac whipped around.

"Harm!" Without much thought, she threw herself into his arms. He hugged her tightly to him, nearly lifting her off the ground, and she couldn't help laughing with joy. When he finally released her, he surprised her by leaning down and brushing his lips across hers.

"Miss me?" he asked, giving her his full flyboy grin.

Mac nodded. "How did you get here so soon?" She wrapped one arm around his waist and steered him toward the coffee counter.

"I got an earlier flight to Kalispell. I tell you, twenty-five minutes versus four hours…totally worth the extra cash."

Mac gave him another squeeze. "Did you even realize how far Spokane was from Whitefish when you made your first flight here?"

Harm's grin turned sheepish. "Not really…I thought it was only a couple of hours…"

"Ah…" Mac smiled up at him, but to her chagrin, her eyes filled with tears. Harm was instantly concerned.

"Mac, honey…what is it? What'd I do wrong?" He took her face in his hands and brushed her tears away with his thumbs. "Mac?"

"No, Harm…you didn't do anything wrong. I'm j-just h-happy." She wrapped both of her arms around him again, sniffling and then giggling at the absurdity of her tears.

Harm didn't seem to mind. "I missed you too, Ninja Girl." She felt his kiss to the crown of her head and then his cheek pressed against her hair. It was so good to have him back.

* * *

_1925 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

"That was delicious, Mac." Harm leaned back from Mac's little dining room table with a satisfied grin. Mac grinned back, happy he'd appreciated the vegetarian chili and cinnamon roll she'd made for him. At first he'd been skeptical about combining those particular foods, but as soon as he'd eaten the top of the roll and dunked the bottom half in the chili like she'd taught him to do, he'd become a believer. Mac was particularly proud of her cinnamon rolls; they were made completely from scratch and she'd yet to make a bad batch of them.

"Thanks, Harm. I suppose you never expected me to survive without a microwave, huh?" She smiled good-naturedly at him when he'd nodded.

"Hmmmm, no TV, no microwave…nary a boxed meal in the cupboards…I'm proud of you, Mac."

Mac blushed. "I wanted things to be different here."

Understanding flitted through his eyes as he reached across the table to rest his hand on hers. "You love it here, don't you." It was more of a statement than a question.

Mac nodded but kept her eyes focused on their joined hands. "It's quiet. I needed that." She pulled her hand out from under his and stood up to start clearing the table, all the while feeling Harm's eyes boring into her back. He finally stood up as well and started carrying dishes back with her.

Mac felt herself growing increasingly apprehensive. Discussing why she'd moved here to this particular town was perilously close to why she'd moved in the first place, and she didn't want to clarify why, exactly, she'd needed the quiet. She didn't want to tell him she'd needed the peace and beauty of these Montana mountains to quiet the voices that still spoke to her from Paraguay, the voices that taunted her from JAG, and most of all, his sneering voice as he'd all but kicked her out of his apartment the last time she'd been there.

Sure, they'd covered some of that during their telephone calls, but it was easier to do it that way, without having to look him in the eye.

"Mac—" She felt him step up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

Mac felt the all too familiar sting of tears and she blinked them away. She reached up and briefly squeezed one of his hands, then slipped out from underneath them. "Excuse me for minute, please?" She didn't wait for his response before she headed for the kitchen door.

"Help yourself to another cinnamon roll," she called behind her, then disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

_2001 Local_

_Mac's House _

_Whitefish, MT_

"He's staring at me again."

Harm stared back at the cat who'd taken up residence on the coffee table. Nicodemus sat directly in front of him, flicking his tail as he studied the man before him.

"He likes you, Harm," Mac said as she sat down next to him on the couch. Harm merely snorted and Mac giggled.

He couldn't resist wrapping an arm around her shoulders, giving them a squeeze as he settled further into the couch. "I've missed your laugh," he said, candidly. She laid her head on his shoulder for a moment in acknowledgement but didn't say anything. He looked down at her and their eyes met briefly, but it was long enough for Harm to see that guarded look in her eyes again. It pained him to see the distrust in those deep chocolate orbs.

"Mac, I—"

Mac didn't move away from him, but it was clear she was uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going. The trouble was, Harm wasn't really sure himself where he was going with any of it. In an effort to calm her, Harm didn't say anything more for several minutes. He let his fingers idly dance along her upper arm until she completely relaxed before he spoke again.

"So…what movie are we gonna watch?" Mac still had her laptop, which she basically used as a glorified DVD player.

Mac relaxed even more at his casual question. "You can take your pick…we have drama, comedy…horror…"

Harm leaned forward and picked up a DVD from the stack. _"Friday the 13__th__? _That's not horror! Horror is…"

"What, Harm?"

"It's, uh, something like…like _Steel Magnolias!" _He said in triumph.

Mac gave a snort of laughter. "Well, you're in luck, Harm!" She dug through the piles until she found the tear-jerker. She held it out to him and he shuddered dramatically, causing her to giggle again.

Harm suspected he had the goofiest of grins on his face. He'd always loved to make her laugh, but in the last few years he hadn't been able to do that very much. Hearing her laughter tonight warmed him more than he'd thought it could. "Mac…go ahead and pick…but no chick flicks!"

Mac looked thoughtful. "Okay…Steel Magnolias it is." She grinned up at him.

"_Maaac…"_

"I thought you said that was a horror movie." She was the very picture of innocence.

Harm just raised an eyebrow at her. They stared each other down, and when it became clear Mac wouldn't break, he grabbed her and started tickling her.

Soon they were both weak and out of breath from their respective mirth and a Harm knew he'd hadn't had this much fun in years. He also knew he was completely, utterly smitten with the beautiful woman next to him. When they'd calmed and settled on the Alfred Hitchcock's _Vertigo, _Harm wrapped his arm around her shoulder and they both settled back comfortably and concentrated on the classic film.

* * *

_2320 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, Montana_

"Mac, honey? Time to wake up." Harm jostled the sleeping beauty next to him. Mac had fallen asleep halfway through the movie and was now snuggled against his side, her head on his chest. He'd considered just sitting there with her until she woke up, but he'd been in this same position for almost two hours and his back was protesting.

"Mac?" he called to her again. He brushed his fingertips over her upper arm and she sighed, cuddling closer and Harm decided his screaming back could wait. With his other hand he started to stroke her hair, letting his fingers twine themselves in the softness of her long chestnut locks. He loved her hair long like this, loose and free; it fit with the softer, more feminine look she'd adopted here. He'd never forgotten she was a woman underneath the tough marine façade, but…

_Wait…_

A memory from that South American hell rolled through his mind…Mac in a bathtub filled with bubbles. The skin of her shoulders glowed, kissed by the warm droplets of water, and he remembered just staring down at her, feeling his body react. He remembered his words to her then…

_I'd forgotten how beautiful you are…_

Oh, god, had he? He remembered how close they'd been before Bud's accident. They'd spent more time together outside the office than ever before; one could even say they had been dating, even if they hadn't admitted it to themselves.

And then it had all fallen apart.

He _had _forgotten how beautiful she was, but even worse, he'd forgotten _her. _He stopped seeing her for who she was…that intoxicating combination of femininity and marine strength. He'd stopped seeing her vulnerability, stopped honoring her trust in him, and stopped acknowledging her insecurities forged out of a childhood and adolescence rife with emotional abuse, neglect, and abandonment. He should have known she'd need the words along with the grand gestures.

He should have remembered all of that, but he'd let her down. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he whispered. She stirred but didn't awaken, and he continued to run his fingers through her hair, letting the rhythmic movements relax him.

Well, they relaxed him until a furry paw reached down and pressed against his hand, stopping its movement.

Harm glanced toward the back of the couch, where Nicodemus now perched.

"_Niiic…" _he groaned exasperatedly. The cat's paw pressed against his hand more firmly.

"Nic…I promise. I love her. I'm not going to hurt her. Gimme a chance," he appealed to the feline, looking straight into the glittering eyes of Mac's cat. Long seconds passed, and finally, Nicodemus pulled his Paw away. Harm could have sworn the cat nodded at him before he tucked his paws underneath him and lay down. Harm chuckled to himself as he felt Mac stir again.

"Harm?" Mac's voice was more of a sigh and she looked up at him with half-closed eyes. Her sleepy smile caused his heart to flutter. "Movie over?" she asked softly, and he nodded.

"Yeah…about an hour ago."

Mac yawned. "Oh, you should've woken me." Harm noticed she hadn't made any effort to move away from him.

"Nah…you looked so peaceful…couldn't bring myself to do it."

She smiled softly again. "You make a good pillow."

"Thanks."

"What were you and Nic talking about?"

Harm glanced up at the cat, who was now watching him again.

"Oh, nothing much…but it seems we both have more than a passing affection for a certain dark-haired beauty."

Mac's eyes widened ever so slightly. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah." Mac's tongue darted darted out to moisten her bottom lip, and Harm moved his face closer to hers.

"Do I know her?" she asked with a slight hitch in her breathing.

Harm cupped her cheek with his hand, letting his thumb brush over the curve of it. His face was now mere inches from hers, and both of their breaths quickened and mingled with each other's.

"Oh, I think…" His lips brushed across hers. "You…" His lips brushed across hers again. "Do…."

And then he kissed her.

* * *

_End Chapter 13_


	14. Wide Open

_A/N: Well, I don't know what I just wrote, but I wrote something. I had planned to write, write, write, while on my cruise down the Rhine—but I had absolutely NO free time! When I wasn't on one of my truly lovely excursions, I was in class (there was a medical conference on board), and in the evenings, dinner lasted from 7 pm until nearly 10 pm! I was told that was a European thing (I was told this by, well, other Americans, so no offense to my European readers)—if it is, I will freely admit that it was too much for this gauche American. Plus, it took me a while to get over the jet lag. So…the point of this author's note is to say…no I did not get much writing done, and what I did get done only came in small snippets, so this chapter is likely disjointed and it isn't my best. Ah, well…_

**Gone**

**Chapter 14: Wide Open**

_2322 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Harm was kissing her. His arms were wrapped tightly around her and he was _kissing _her. His lips, gentle at first, now moved hungrily over hers. After a moment of shock, she realized her lips were her lips were just as hungry. She eagerly devoured him, tasting the cinnamon sweetness from her rolls and that familiar hint of peppermint, and readily welcomed his tongue when it brushed across her lips, begging entrance.

The first touch of their tongues sent a jolt of desire through her, but it also set off alarm bells in her head.

_She wasn't ready for this._

_She wanted this so badly. _

_It was too soon…_

_Except it felt so good. _

Abruptly, Mac pulled away. Harm followed her, but her hands pushing against his chest stopped him.

"Mac?" He was still breathing heavily, his eyes still clouded with passion.

"Harm, I…we can't…" She scooted back into the corner of her couch.

"Mac—" She cut him off.

"I'm not ready, I—" She scooted off the couch but before Harm could make a move Nicodemus was in his lap.

"Nic!" he cried, obviously exasperated. Mac took that opportunity to rush from the room toward her bedroom. She quickly shut the door behind her and leaned against it. Her heart still pounded and tears were in her eyes as she slid down to the floor, berating herself the entire way.

_Coward._

* * *

Harm sat on the couch in shock. He knew Mac had been enjoying the kiss, but he could understand her feeling that it was too soon. _So why did she run?_

"Any ideas, Nic?" Harm asked the cat. The animal shook his head and Harm rolled his eyes. He must be losing it—the cat was just being a cat; he was _not _answering him.

Harm moved the cat off his lap, which earned him a feline glare. He stuck his tongue out at Mac's pet, and Nic turned and showed his backside to Harm before he settled down and started washing. "Well, Nic, I'd better go see if I can get her to talk to me." The cat paused in his self-ministrations to glance up at him but then went back to his task. Harm rolled his eyes again before he stood up and headed down the hall to Mac's room.

* * *

Mac still sat with her back against her bedroom door, cursing herself for her reaction to Harm's kiss. It had been, well, _wonderful, _but she truly wasn't ready to go there with him. Oh, there had been many times in the last nine years that she had been ready and willing to give herself to him—Russia, Sydney, her engagement party…and so many other times in between. Now, however, their baggage was so much heavier. They had both hurt each other deeply, and, though she had no doubt that she loved him, her heart still wasn't ready to trust.

And it wasn't just Harm…

Truthfully, Mac's faith in her own judgement had gradually been whittled away to nearly nothing over the years. She'd made so many mistakes, mistakes she never thought she'd make once she'd dried out and joined the marines. First, there was the ill-advised affair with her soon-to-be-former CO, John Farrow…she'd been able to call it a 'youthful indiscretion' and move on, vowing never to repeat that mistake. She was successful in that, but she eventually found herself in even worse situations. There was the debacle with her husband…_what kind of idiot _'forgets' _to divorce her felon of a husband? _She'd gone to John then, not wanting to burden her best friend or her CO with her problems. Harm was obviously busy with Bobbie Latham, and Admiral Chegwidden had enough things going on as JAG.

Deep down, Mac knew she hadn't told Harm or AJ about Chris because she didn't want to sully their opinion of her. John already knew much of her sordid past; what did it matter if he knew more? He already knew the kind of woman she was…

Next came Mic. She'd run to him because she thought Harm had rejected her. She'd let the man manipulate her, pressure her into an engagement, even control her to some extent…and then he'd left anyway. It had been for the best, really, but the fallout had been spectacular. She'd opened herself up to Harm again, only to have her heart broken. She'd had to endure all the whispers behind her back after the wedding hadn't been rescheduled before she'd run off to the _Guadalcanal, _and then had nearly destroyed her friendship with Harm.

They'd managed to find their footing again over the ensuing months, and then, just as she felt they were about to take the next step in their relationship, last year had happened. Harm and Singer. A poorly planned mission to Paraguay accepted out of spite, and then the utter destruction of her relationship with Harm.

However, through all that, she at least felt secure in the knowledge that she still had friends at JAG. Bud, Harriet, even Sturgis…but she'd been wrong.

_So, so wrong…_

That was the final blow to her self-confidence. All those years when she thought she had equal support from them…they'd only been good to her because her best friend was also _their _best friend. She should have known that was the case, should have picked up on that a long time ago, but apparently she was naïve. She'd certainly let her guard down at JAG, and it had cost her.

She should have known better.

Mac had trusted her grandmother, but she'd died when Mac was only thirteen. She'd trusted her uncle, but now he was in prison. She'd trusted Harm, but he'd abandoned her more than once. Mac honestly wasn't sure she could trust herself to know who was trustable anymore.

_But you do trust Mary…_her inner voice admonished her.

_No, Sam trusts Mary, _she answered back, knowing full well her argument was ridiculous.

And it was ridiculous that she was just sitting there on her bedroom floor while Harm was thinking who knows what out in the living room. Mac decided she'd better go explain herself. She started to rise and then was startled by a soft knock on her door.

"Mac, honey?" came Harm's gentle voice. "I'm sorry about…well, I'm not sorry I kissed you, but I _am _sorry that I made you uncomfortable. It's okay that you aren't ready for more, Mac. I won't pressure you. I'm not going to lie to you, though. I do want more. I'm ready for more. I'm ready to let go, Mac. But I can wait for you. Right now, I'm just so glad to be here and I'm so grateful you're letting me be your friend."

He was silent for a moment, and she imagined he was standing with his forehead against her door. She heard something, she supposed it was his hand, slide down behind her, and then she heard his voice closer to her ear.

"Mac, I hope you can hear me. I love you. I always have. I know it's hard to trust me right now after everything, but you can, I promise. And you know I don't make a promise I don't intend to keep. I'm going to go to bed now. I'll see you in the morning, and Mac…I love you."

Mac listened to the sounds of Harm leaving her door to go to the small second bedroom she'd set up for him and then let the tears flow. She wanted to stay in here and hide. She wanted to run after him and give herself to him. She wanted to go back to before Harm left to fly when things were so much simpler. Or maybe she didn't really know what she wanted…

Mac buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

* * *

Harm lay down in the full-sized bed that took up the majority of the space in the little guest bedroom and prayed he hadn't ruined things with Mac. He should have controlled himself earlier, but she'd looked so beautiful in his arms, with her sleep-veiled eyes and mussed up hair. He'd been drawn to her lips like a magnet and had lost himself with his first taste of her. She'd been warm and pliant against him, tasting like chocolate and cinnamon, reminding him of their Christmas kiss under the mistletoe so many years ago. Only this time, their tongues tangled, their bodies meshed, and if she hadn't stopped him, they likely would have made love right there on the couch.

_With Nicodemus watching…_

Now that was an unwelcome thought. Harm shuddered and chuckled at the same time and rolled to his side, only to have his chuckle end in a yelp.

"Dammit, Nic!" The cat sat calmly on a little chair next to the bed, staring at him once again. "How the hell did you get in here?"

The cat merely blinked at Harm, his eyes glowing in the faint light of the clock. Harm stared back, finally rolling to his other side with a huff…and found himself looking over his shoulder.

"I really love her, Nic."

He turned his head back. "I really do," he whispered. "I hope she heard me, Nic."

_Please let her have heard…_

* * *

_0331 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT _

Mac sat up in bed with a sigh. She'd been tossing and turning for the last couple of hours and finally decided she may as well get up and at least get a glass of water.

After she'd cried it out earlier, Mac had changed into her pajamas and crawled into bed. She fell asleep almost immediately, only to wake up a scant hour later, and since then she'd been ruminating about what had just happened with Harm.

Mac slid out of bed and slipped on her robe. The house was cool at night, and she shivered when her feet touched the hardwood floor. She quietly opened her door and padded down the hall, noticing Harm's bedroom door was open just before the man himself stepped in front of her. She was startled and she felt Harm grasp her arms to steady her.

"Whoa, Mac…sorry about that. You okay?"

Mac nodded dumbly as Harm's hands moved up her arms to rest on her shoulders. His eyes, midnight blue in the darkness of the hall, studied her, his gaze finally locking onto hers.

"Are we?" he asked, and Mac's heart sped up at the intensity in eyes. She started to nod, but then, to her great embarrassment, her eyes filled, the tears spilling out before she could stop them.

"Oh, Mac…I'm sorry. I _did _make you uncomfortable, didn't I? It won't happen again…" Mac only cried harder, now utterly mortified.

They stood there for a few moments, Mac still unable to control her tears.

"Oh, Mac, honey. I'm sorry. Please stop crying. Please. I'm sorry…I'll go if you want me to. I know I shouldn't have kissed you…I just couldn't help myself…you're so…and I…I'm sorry I kissed you."

Mac struggled for some control as she shook her head. "H-Harm…it—it isn't that…"

Harm had let go of her and stepped away; Mac immediately missed his warmth, but now she felt him near again. "Then what is it, sweetheart?" His thumb gently brushed away a tear.

"I—I'm scared."

Harm's eyes widened and he swallowed hard. "Of—of me?"

"No…of _me."_

Harm stared at Mac in consternation. "Mac, I…I don't understand…"

"Harm…I liked you kissing me…"

He waited a few seconds for her to continue. "But?"

"I…I don't trust…oh, Harm, can't we just forget about it?"

"_Maaac…" _

"No, Harm. Just go back to sleep." Mac turned to go back to her room, but Harm's voice stopped her.

"Mac? Do you want me to go?"

Mac whipped around. _"No!" _This time it was her grabbing onto him. "No," she said, a bit more calmly.

Harm gazed at her intently once again. "Mac? I think we should talk. Now." He was relieved when she finally nodded. "Go sit down in the living room, and I'll make some tea."

Harm watched Mac stir her tea, blowing on it every few seconds ostensibly to cool it. He knew she was really just stalling, and he could feel the anxiety coming off of her in waves. Finally, she set the cup down without even taking a sip.

"Harm, I—"

"Mac…" They both spoke at once and chuckled nervously together. Harm motioned for her to go first. He watched her as she swallowed hard a few times while she stared at her hands.

"Harm…" she began haltingly. "Did you…did you mean it?"

It took him a few moments to realize what she meant. _So, she had heard…_

"Yes, I did, Mac." He wanted to touch her, reassure her somehow, but he wasn't sure it would be welcome. She heaved a deep sigh.

"You know I feel the same—"

"Thank god," Harm blurted before he could stop himself.

"But…"

_There was always a 'but'._

"But, I don't trust—"

"That's understandable, Mac," Harm interrupted. "After everything…I know it will be a while before you feel you can trust me again."

Mac bit her lip. "That's not what I meant, Harm. Not exactly. It's my judgement I don't trust."

"How do you mean?"

Mac drew her legs up and pushed herself into the corner of the couch. She looked impossibly small as she curled up into a ball with her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Harm wanted nothing more than to draw her into his lap and hold her, but he knew now wasn't the time.

"Harm, I've come to the conclusion that I'm not a good judge of people…"

_What?_

"And I make poor decisions."

_Don't we all? _"Mac, what are you getting at?"

"Harm…I saw what alcohol did to my father…and yet I drank anyway. I thought Chris loved me and would treat me better than my father. He said all the right words, and I believed him, but it was all a lie. I had the affair with John. I left JAG with Dalton. _He _said all the right words too…and I fell for it. I thought I had friends, family even, at JAG…but…" Mac looked away from him, and the tears that slid down her cheeks broke his heart.

Harm scooted over to her and pried her hands away from her legs. They were small and cold in his, and he gripped them tighter, hoping to transfer some of his warmth to her. "Mac, what happened at JAG?" he asked, gently. She shook her head, but she did let him pull her into his arms. He gave her a few minutes to calm, then asked about himself. "Mac, what is it you don't trust about me?"

He felt her sigh against him, and it took her so long to answer that he assumed she wouldn't.

"Harm, so many others have said the right words and I believed them…but you know how it all ended. I should have known better, but I didn't; clearly, I don't read people as well as I thought. So, when you say the right words…"

"You don't believe me?" That thought cut Harm deeply, and it cut deeply that she had clearly been berating herself for ever trusting him in the first place.

"Not quite…I do believe you…but I've been wrong so many times about so many things…I don't trust my belief."

_Oh, Mac…_ It was so typical of her that instead of blaming his actions for her inability to trust him, she blamed herself.

"And if I'm wrong this time…I don't think I'll survive."

"_Maaac…_honey, I don't know what to say to that or what to say to convince you that I'm telling the truth. It kills me that you feel that way, and it kills me that I've helped make you feel that way. What can I do, Mac?"

"There's nothing you _can _do, Harm. This is all me."

"But—"

"Harm…"

Harm sighed. "I thought…if I gave you the words to go with the actions…"

"I know, Harm. I know. But—"

"The actions haven't always matched the words."

"Not lately…I mean, not a year and a half ago…two years ago. Not a few years ago…"

"When?" Harm had an idea…and it involved Mic Brumby. He felt her stiffen in his arms. "Mac?"

"Harm," Mac sounded tired, resigned. "There's no point in going back there."

But Harm needed to. He wanted to be able to explain himself, explain why it would never happen again that way. "I need to, Mac." She heaved another deep sigh.

"Okay."

A shudder went through Mac's body and he stroked her back in comfort. "When you're ready, Mac."

She gave a bitter chuckle. "If we wait for that, you'll be here for years."

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. "I wouldn't mind that." She rolled her eyes, but her small smile showed she wasn't actually irritated with him. "Okay, Mac…then you may as well get it over with."

Mac's smile turned rueful. "I suppose. Harm, you remember Sydney? The ferry?"

_How could I forget? _Harm swallowed hard. "Yes."

"You said no—"

"I said, 'not yet.'" He felt compelled to clarify.

"I know…but that was as good as saying no." Harm started to protest, but she put her finger on his lips to quiet him. "I know, Harm." He stared into her eyes for a moment, then nodded for her to continue.

"And then…I went to Mic…which was more than bad judgement. And you…you acted like a jealous boyfriend. But why? You didn't want me. If you did, you would have told me while Mic was on the other side of the world in Australia."

"Mac…"

"When Mic did show up, you were even worse…but you still didn't say anything. I was so confused. The night on the admiral's porch…you kissed me like…like you loved me. We said things that night…and you kissed me, then nothing. You told me to come to you…and then you turned me away—I know, Rene's father…you needed to stay with her and you wouldn't be you if you hadn't, but then…nothing…clearly…I'm reading you wrong…"

This time Harm wouldn't let her silence him. "No, Mac…you weren't reading me wrong. I'm the problem here. I've been a coward...I couldn't let go. But, Mac, the year and a half without you taught me something—I'm not afraid of letting go now…those months I spent searching for you…I vowed that if I ever found you…I would tell you I loved you, that I've always loved you, and that letting go is far less scary than a life without you would be."

Harm shifted around so he could look her directly in the eye. His hands came up to cup her face and his fingertips grazed the rims of her ears while his thumbs brushed a few errant tears away. "Trust me, Mac. Trust yourself. I'm not going anywhere. I love you. I _love _you. Please…" He held her gaze and silently pleaded with her to have faith in him, in them. He watched as her eyes went from fear and uncertainty to hope, and then finally…_belief. _Her entire countenance lit up and her smile, at first shaky, grew into a brilliant one of joy. He couldn't resist kissing her, first on the forehead, then her eyes, her cheeks, each kiss punctuated by an 'I love you'. Finally, he found her lips, and this time she didn't pull away. The kiss was loving and sweet at first, but when her tongue traced the entrance of his mouth, passion took over. He opened for her and their tongues teased each other at first, then tasted with abandon. Harm felt his arousal growing and when they broke apart for air, he saw Mac's flushed cheeks and darkened eyes it only fueled his arousal more.

"Oh, Mac…" he whispered, leaning in for another kiss, but then she abruptly slid of his lap.

_It's too much, you idiot, _he admonished himself, but then she held out her hand. He studied it for a moment and then slowly reached up to take it. She gently pulled on his arm and he stood, then she led him toward her bedroom. Harm's heart pounded, and as they reached the threshold, he held back. She looked at him questioningly, and he gave her a soft smile of reassurance.

"Mac, are you sure?" he asked, not wanting to push her into something she wasn't ready for. She smiled back and nodded, drawing the hand she held to the tie of her robe. Her answer was clear, but he had to know one more thing…

"Mac? Where's Nicodemus?"

Her laugh was musical. "Not in here."

He pulled the door shut behind them.

* * *

_End Chapter 14_


	15. All Through the Night

_A/N: At long last, here's a chapter of something! I'll focus next on finishing _An Unlikely Angel_—I want it done by Christmas! And then back to this and _Letters to Harm. _Thanks for all the reviews and the kind inquiries into my well-being. Real life has been intruding!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 15: All Through the Night**

_October 2004_

_2227 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Making love to Sarah MacKenzie was like coming home. Yes, that was a cliché, but as Harm moved within her, he knew it to be true.

She'd taken his hand and drawn it to the tie of her robe, and with trembling fingers he'd loosened the knot, letting it fall open to reveal red silk pajamas. He'd then slipped his hands underneath the top and moved them around to her back so he could pull her to him. _"Sarah," _he breathed before his lips met hers. Their kiss, soft at first, grew in intensity and passion while their hands journeyed over each other's bodies. Harm trailed kisses down her jaw, her throat, and when he reached the hollow where her pulse beat out a rapid cadence, his fingers moved to undo the buttons of her pajamas. Mac's nipples were already taut and erect and her gasp as he swirled his tongue around one of the turgid pebbles, sent a rush of blood to his groin. His manhood, already partially erect, grew to its full tumescence, and he couldn't help pressing into her so she could feel his hardness against her belly.

They gradually worked their way to the bed and soon she lay before him, her legs open to allow him to settle in between them. The heat of her, the scent of her surrounded him and for a long while he just explored her body with his mouth and hands. Fingers danced over smooth olive skin, and when they reached her core, he allowed them to dip into her slick, hot folds. He teased her for a moment, pressing a fingertip to her swollen clit before gently circling it. He grinned when she lurched and gasped, and he couldn't resist plunging a finger deep inside her. She was wet and wanton with her need as she writhed underneath him. Finally, they could wait no more, and as he lowered himself into her depths, he never took his eyes away from her. Once he was completely sheathed in her, he gave her the softest of kisses. "I love you, Sarah Jane MacKenzie," he said, and he began to move.

Now, in the darkness, his Sarah in his arms, he marveled at what he'd found. A friend. A lover. A soulmate. A _home…_

Harm couldn't resist gliding his hands over body, watching the goosebumps follow his path, and it wasn't long before her soft sighs of slumber turned into moans of arousal. She was now awake and ready for him again, and as he covered her body with his and pressed into her, he knew he'd never be able to be without her again. They made love slowly this time, and before the night was through, he would make love to her twice more.

It was heaven. It was _home._

* * *

_Two days later…_

_1644 Local_

_Central Avenue_

_Whitefish, MT_

Harm and Mac wandered hand in hand down Central Avenue, and he was amazed at how many people stopped to say 'hi' to them. They all seemed to know Mac here, though of course they only knew her as Samantha O'Hara. Harm did his best to call her that when they were amongst people, not wanting to make things difficult for her here.

Harm had found Whitefish to be a delightful town, and he didn't think he'd ever seen a prettier Main Street. He _knew _he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as the woman who currently beside him.

"What?"

Mac's question made him realize he'd been just staring down at her, a stupid grin on his face. His grin widened and he shrugged. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about how beautiful you are."

Mac looked surprised at first, and then she blushed, ducking her head as she smiled. "Thank you," she said softly. Harm pulled his hand from hers and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He kissed the crown of her head and together they walked on.

The two had just stepped out of a specialty pet shop, Harm now armed with a few bribes for Nicodemus, when a male voice interrupted their light conversation.

"Sam!"

Harm immediately felt Mac stiffen as she halted in place. Harm turned his head toward the source of the voice and found himself sizing up a tallish dark-haired man. His pulse sped up. Somehow, he knew he was looking at more than a casual acquaintance of Mac's. Especially when he saw guilt flash in her eyes.

The ugly noose of jealousy settled around his heart.

* * *

"Ian. Hi," Mac said, furtively glancing at Harm to gauge his reaction. Harm's expression was carefully neutral, and likely no one but her would have noticed the subtle tightening around his eyes. Somehow, he must have sensed that Ethan was more than just a random customer of hers.

Mac looked back and forth between the two men, who seemed to be sizing each other up. Sighing inwardly, she turned toward Harm. "Harm, this is Ian Marshall, a friend of mine. Ian, this is H—"

"Harmon Rabb," Harm interrupted, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Ian took it, and Mac nearly cringed when she saw the force of Harm's grip.

"Nice to meet you," Ian answered politely.

"Likewise," Harm said, equally as polite. "So, how do you know Ma-uh, Sam?"

Mac didn't miss the amused glint in Ian's eyes. "We went out a few times last winter."

"I see," was Harm's bland response. The amusement in Ian's gaze intensified, turning almost devilish. Mac groaned inwardly as Ian turned to her.

"So, this is the one." Mac's eyes rose in question.

"The one?" She chuckled nervously.

"The reason you and I didn't work out." He said it lightly, no trace if resentment or regret. Mac knew on good authority that Ian had been happily dating a woman he'd met in Kalispell this past summer, and she started to relax.

That is, she started to relax until she saw Harm's expression. It was pinched, subtly angry, and Mac knew the peace of the day was over.

_Dammit._

* * *

_1710 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

"So, you used to go out with him?" Harm's question was spoken so calmly, so innocently, as they entered her house, but Mac heard the steel beneath the words. She sighed inwardly, not wanting to deal with a jealous Harm.

"Yes," she answered honestly, watching his eyes darken with more jealousy and maybe a little anger. At one time, she may have reveled in that jealousy, but she'd grown and hoped he had too. Another glance at his now shuttered countenance made her heart flutter with worry and she felt her own hackles rise in annoyance.

"How," he swallowed. "How long?" He'd slipped off his jacket, but he still had it clutched tightly in his hand.

"A couple of months. Harm—"

"Who broke it off?" He interrupted her.

_Does it really matter? _"I did."

Harm stared down at his jacket and several unreadable expressions flitted across his face. "Good," he replied tersely, then turned toward the kitchen.

_Good? _Mac thought about following him and asking him what that was supposed to mean, but then decided to let the matter drop. Maybe that was the end of it…

* * *

It wasn't the end of it. Throughout dinner, Harm barely spoke. His answers to her were short, one or two words, and by the time she got up to serve the mousse she'd prepared, Mac was fuming. What did it matter that she'd briefly dated during a time when she thought she'd never see him again?

Mac set the mousse down in front of Harm a bit harder than she'd intended. He looked up at her in surprise, but she didn't acknowledge it and returned to her seat, and the two ate their dessert in silence.

Periodically Mac could feel his eyes on her, but she studiously ignored him, and by the time their desserts were finished, the tension around them had grown thick and heavy. Nicodemus must have felt it; the cat had made himself scarce from the moment she and Harm had returned from town.

Just as Mac decided she couldn't take it anymore and opened her mouth to speak, Harm beat her to it.

"This was good." She looked up and eyed him warily, not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

"Thanks."

Harm's face took on an expression of careful nonchalance. _Here it comes, _she thought.

"So…when did you and Ethan—"

"Ian," Mac corrected. If this was going to get ugly, they may as well get the details right.

"Right…so when did you and _Ian _date?"

"After Christmas," was her short reply.

"Until…?"

_Didn't we basically cover this? _Mac's eyes went unwittingly to her scarred hand, remembering that night in March as she clenched her fist. "March."

Harm took a long pull from his glass of water while Mac tensely awaited his next question.

"What, uh…what made you, um, break it off?"

"Harm…"

"Turned out to be a jerk?" he continued questioning.

_No, but you're being one. _

Mac sighed heavily. "No, no he wasn't. He was…_is…_a very nice man." Mac knew Harm's visit had been going too well.

"Is? You still see him?"

"This town isn't that big, Harm, and he works for Mary's husband."

"So that's a yes?"

Mac stared hard at him. "What are you getting at, Harm?"

Harm didn't say anything; he just stared back her, waiting for an answer.

"Fine. Yes, Harm. From time to time I do run into him, but I'm not _seeing _him. I told you, I ended it in March."

"Why?"

Mac started to clear the dishes as she debated on answering him. Finally, she decided to pretend she hadn't heard him as she turned and walked the stack of plates in her hands to the kitchen. When she turned back around, Harm was right there, startling her.

"_Jesus, _Harm!" His hands reached out to steady her and she heard him mumble an apology. She tried to step around him, but his hands tightened almost imperceptibly on her arms.

"You didn't answer my question."

"What?"

Harm's face was stony. "Why did you break it off with Ian?"

Mac was angry. Correction: she was downright _pissed. _Harm's current attitude was ridiculous. It was out of line.

"What difference does it make, Harm?" she snapped, glaring up at him. He didn't flinch, but a pained look went through his eyes. "Well?!" Mac continued.

Harm swallowed a few times. "It-it doesn't, Mac. Just…I was just curious." He looked away for a moment, then reached down for her hand. "I'm sorry."

Mac watched as Harm's fingers twined with hers. "Okay, Harm. Let's just forget about it." She forced a smile and squeezed his hand. "Did you want to watch a movie or something?"

Squeezing her hand in return, Harm nodded. "Sure." They headed for the living room, the air still tense around them, both lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

_1917 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

"What do you feel like watching?" Mac asked Harm as they sat down on her couch. Harm shrugged, and a quick glance at him showed her his mind was on something very different than movie selections. Mac blew out a breath of sad frustration.

"Why does it bother you so much, Harm?" she asked tiredly.

"What?" He sounded surprised, but he wasn't fooling Mac.

"Ian and me. Why does it bother you?" she repeated, noting the flash of anger in his blue-grey eyes.

"I…I…I don't know," he answered, sounding defeated.

"But it does."

"Yes."

She turned toward him on the couch. "It shouldn't. It's over. It's been over for months."

"I know, dammit!" Mac jumped at the rancor in his voice. "I know," he repeated, his voice now a harsh whisper.

"Then what—"

Harm pinched the bridge of his nose. "Mac…I just don't see why you had to…"

"Try to move on with my life? Try to be happy?"

"No, of course not, Mac." Harm shifted in his seat, looking decidedly uncomfortable with this turn of conversation.

"Then what, Harm?"

Harm sighed heavily. "Mac…can we just drop it?"

"Don't you mean 'table' it?" Mac's voice was low and cold, and Harm flinched.

"_Maaac…_"

"That's fine, Harm. Yeah, let's table it. In fact, let's just table the rest of the night!" Mac stood up from the couch and took a step toward the hall.

She heard Harm stand up behind her and hit what was likely his shin on the coffee table. There was a muffled curse and then he shouted after her.

"Dammit, Mac! Stop. Come back here so we can talk about this like adults!"

Mac whipped around. "I thought we were dropping it, Harm." She stalked back toward him, eyes blazing, the anger coming off of her in waves. "So, which is it?"

Harm closed his eyes for a moment. "We should talk."

"Fine," she answered, crossing her arms in front of her as she glared up at him.

"Mac, I—I'm sorry…about…" He shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

"What, Harm? It isn't much of an apology if you don't know what you're apologizing for."

The two of them stared each other down until Harm blinked and looked away.

Mac let out a frustrated huff of air and sat back down on the couch. After some hesitation, Harm joined her.

"I'm sorry I upset you, Mac," he said, reaching for her hand.

"Okay." She pulled her hand out of his path and watched his face tighten in irritation.

"Come on, Mac." Mac looked down at the hand he still held out to her, but rather then relent and take it in hers, she tightened her arms around herself instead.

"_Maaac…" _

"I don't get it, Harm," she said, tensing even more. "I don't get why you're so jealous over someone I dated months ago when you weren't even in my life." Mac hadn't meant to say it that way, given the reasons he wasn't in her life, but it was the truth.

"I'm not jealous." His tone said otherwise.

"You're not? Then why are you acting this way? You're acting more upset now than when I was with Mic and I almost married him." Harm flinched at her words.

"Maybe it's _because _I wasn't in your life this time."

"Harm, we talked about that. I'm sorry…but I did what I had to do to…to keep me from…ah, to keep my…_soul _intact. I was trying to move on."

Harm let out a bitter chuckle, the sharp bark of laughter startling her. "Yeah…you got to move on…"

"Harm?"

He turned his ever-changing eyes to her, and this time they were a dark, bitter grey. "You moved on…and I…so, while you were moving on, did you sleep with him?"

Mac was out of her seat on the couch like a shot. "That is _none _of your business!"

"Isn't it? Didn't we just—"

"I would _never _ask you something like that. Not about someone who was already out of your life!" Now it was Harm's turn to stand and he loomed over her.

"Like _I _was out of your life? Let me tell you, Mac. You were _never _out of my life. Even when I—I hated you, you were there."

"Right. So, you did hate me. You told me you _never _hated me. I guess I was right."

Harm's shoulders slumped. "That came out wrong."

Mac looked at him coldly. "No, I don't think it did."

She stepped away from him and started to walk down her hall. After a couple of steps, she turned her head to look back at him. "I just wanted to go on with my life, Harm. And for the record…no, I didn't sleep with him. I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"I think that's enough confession for one night. I'm going to bed…I think it would be best if you took the guest room tonight." She turned away again, desperately trying to hold it together.

"Fine, Mac," he called out to her. She paused a moment but then kept going. "Fine, Mac," he said again, this time a bit louder. "That's just great. You…you got to 'move on' with your life. How wonderful for you. Let me tell you, Mac, I couldn't do it. I spent most of the last year trying to find you…the whole office thinks I'm half-crazy. The admiral's ordered me to stop more than once. Bud and Sturgis…they've stopped asking me to do things…and Harriet—"

"Stop it."

"What?"

Mac clenched her shaking hands into fists as Harm advanced on her. "What?" he said again.

"Stop it. Stop talking about them."

"Why?" he asked, rather belligerently.

"I don't want to hear about them." There was a slight tremor in her voice.

Harm's mouth curled into a sneer. "Oh, you don't want to hear about them. Oh, yeah…I forgot. You've 'moved on.' Well, why should you get to move on when I can't? Answer me that!"

Blood roared in Mac's ears as the rage and hurt took over. She moved so she was toe to toe with Harm and glared up at him defiantly. "You really think I moved on? With Ian?" She held up her finger signaling him to wait, then whirled around and stomped to her bedroom. Her tears were falling now, and she angrily swiped at her cheeks. She heard Harm come in behind her as she yanked open her dresser drawer and rummaged around for her precious box. Once she found it, she slammed it on top of the dresser, adding another gouge in the wood next to the one she'd made that dark day in March. Mac pulled out Harm's picture, the singed edges a harsh reminder of her pain, and thrust it at Harm.

"Ian was a wonderful man, Harm," she said, her voice choking on her tears. "He was kind. He was fun. I _liked _him! So, what did I do? Each time we went out I'd come home and pull out that picture, wondering if that would be the time I realized I didn't love you anymore—that I could truly move on with Ian. You know what, Harm? _It never happened!_ He'd kiss me and all I could think was he didn't taste like you. He'd hold me and I'd wish for your arms. I'd look into his eyes and be disappointed they weren't like yours!" Mac swiped again at her cheeks, but the tears kept flowing, and by now her shoulders were shaking and her chest was heaving. Harm stared at her, white-faced.

"Mac," he whispered as his hand reached out to brush her tears away, but she jerked hers head back.

"Don't," she growled, and his hand dropped uselessly to his side.

Taking a deep breath, Mac continued her tirade. "Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to tell him I wouldn't ever feel that way about him. I couldn't do to him what I did to Mic. He deserved better. He deserved someone who wouldn't spend their time with him wishing he was someone else." She advanced on Harm again.

"So don't. You. Tell me. I've. Moved on!" Mac punctuated her words with jabs of her finger into his chest. The last jab caused him to wince and stumble back a few paces. He still held the photo in his hand, and as Mac sat down on the edge of the bed, he brought it up closer to his face to study it.

Mac sat with her face buried in one hand while the other clutched at the bedspread beneath her. Her humiliation was complete, and her anger spent. Now all she felt was despair. A long minute passed while all she heard was the sound of her own shuddering breaths.

"Mac?" Harm's voice sounded far away. "Mac?" he said again, and she saw his feet take a step toward her.

"What?" she answered, her voice muffled by her hand.

"What happened to this picture?"

Mac shrugged. She didn't want to get into it now, but her left hand now gripped the bedspread furiously.

"Mac…please…what happened? It looks…burned." She looked up then, and after a few moments, she answered.

"It is."

"How?"

"Harm, don't…"

Harm knelt down in front of her. "Mac…how did it get burned?"

She met his eyes briefly, and they were an intense midnight blue. She had to look away.

"I—I threw it…I threw it into the fire."

"Why?" He spoke softly, gently.

"Because I—" She choked on a sob. "I was mad at you. I wanted to forget you."

"But it's still here."

"I know. I—I pulled it out before it could completely burn." Mac clutched her hands together in her lap, still avoiding Harm's gaze.

Harm leaned forward and rested his hands on either side of her legs. She tried to lean away from him and would have scooted up on the bed if his big hands hadn't covered hers and held on. His thumbs started to brush across her wrists while her heart thudded in her chest. "Why, Mac?"

"Harm, please…" _Don't make me answer that._

"_Why, _Mac?"

Mac closed her eyes but that didn't stop the tide of her tears. Harm's fingers had started tracing circles on her arms, his touch chipping away at her resolve to remain silent.

"_Maaac…"_

"B-because…because it was all I had left of you. I couldn't lose that too…"

"Oh, Mac…" Harm continued the gentle stroking of her wrists while Mac watched, desperately trying to regain her composure.

Suddenly his fingers stopped their hypnotic ministrations and hovered over the scars of her hand. "Mac?" His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant, and her eyes widened as he traced the border of the largest burn with his fingertip. "How did this happen?"

Mac shrugged. She had no intention of telling him anything more about that night.

"Mac? Are these burns?" His thumb stroked across her hand, following the trail of scars. Gently, he turned her hand over and brushed across the scar on her palm. Mac turned her face away from him.

"Mac?" His tone was now imploring, and Mac found herself nodding slowly.

"How did you get them?" He now had both of his big hands around her much smaller, previously injured one.

"Harm, don't…"

"Did you burn your hand saving that picture?"

"_Haarm…"_ This was humiliating and it was made more so by the tears that started to fall down her cheeks.

"Tell me, Mac…is that what happened? Mac?" Harm's hand came up to cup her cheek and brush the tears aside. He ducked his head to look into her eyes, lifting her chin when she tried to look away. For several heartbeats, chocolate-amber eyes stared into shining green ones until, finally, Mac nodded.

"Mac…why?" he asked in a near whisper as he moved his hand to trace a line from largest scar to the next. His eyes looked suspiciously wet.

"I told you…it was all I had left. I couldn't let it go." Once again Mac turned her face away from Harm, embarrassed at baring her heart like this. A heavy silence settled about them, with Mac trying to stop her tears while Harm gripped her hand more tightly in his.

When the only sound in the room was an occasional sniffle from Mac, Harm raised her hand to his lips and brushed them over the largest scar. "I'm sorry, Sarah," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He punctuated each apology with a kiss along the old wounds, then turned her hand in his and held it to his cheek. "Sarah, honey, I—

"I couldn't move on, Harm. I t-tried. I did. But I missed you s-so much. Even knowing you hated me…I couldn't let you go."

Harm leaned up and kissed her brow before he rested his forehead against hers. "Mac, sweetheart, I never hated you. Honestly. I was angry, hurt…but mostly, I hated myself." He nuzzled her with his nose and then pressed another kiss to brow. "I'm sorry, Mac. I'm sorry I've been such an ass about this. You had every right to—to go and be happy. I know I have no reason to be jealous…it's just…I came so close to losing you…and I _can't _lose you. I love you." He lifted her hand back up to his lips and brushed another kiss over the burns. "I love you, Sarah."

Mac gazed hard into his eyes. Her already shaky ability to trust _anyone _had been grievously injured in the last couple of years, but in Harm's storm-tossed eyes, she saw the sincerity there. The regret. The _love. _She pulled her hand from his grasp and lifted the other so she could hold his face in between them. She leaned in so her lips were hovering over his. "I love you too, Harm," she whispered, softly, fiercely. "I love you too."

Their kiss was deep, loving, and, though the darkness had already settled around them for the night, the world was bright again.

* * *

_0222 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

She was restless again.

Harm, before he was even entirely awake, pulled Mac closer to him, throwing his leg over her hip to completely envelope her with his warm body. She whimpered a few more times, her body taut even in sleep, but then she sighed and relaxed against him.

For long moments he simply watched her, taking in the sight of her nude body as she lay spooned against him. He breathed in her unique scent, the scent he'd longed for for nearly two years, and pressed a kiss to her hair. The curtains covering her window were slightly open, letting in the moonlight that danced across her skin.

God, how he loved her.

After their talk last night, they'd crawled under the covers and simply held each other. He'd marveled again at how well they fit together, and it wasn't long before their cuddling turned into something more heated. They'd made love until the moon rose, and he'd fallen asleep still inside her. Sometime during the night they'd shifted positions, and they'd slept peacefully until the sound of Mac's whimpering roused him.

Harm let his hand drift down to cover Mac's scarred hand and brushed his thumb across one of the scars, feeling the barest hint of roughened skin. It was subtle; overall the scars were mostly a visual reminder of her pain, but there were a couple of areas that he now knew intimately, and it pained him. She bore these scars because of him, because of the pain he'd inflicted on her, and he found himself blinking back tears. They'd both been hurt, but he couldn't help but think she'd been hurt most of all. Yes, she'd run before, but had always come back. This time, she'd become a whole different person and if he hadn't found her, she would have been lost to them forever. He knew deep down she'd never return to the place that held so many devastating memories if left to her own devices. He wondered if he'd ever be able to convince her that she was still loved by many, still missed, still grieved…that everyone in the office despaired over their treatment of her. He wondered if she'd ever forgive them.

_She forgave you, and you didn't deserve it. _The thought rose up unbidden, and he felt a wash of guilt. Guilt was something he'd grown familiar with. Guilt over his own treatment of her, guilt over lying to everyone back home at JAG about finding her, guilt over not even telling his parents he'd found her. For now, though, he didn't have a choice; he'd never betray her confidence, even if it meant shutting his friends out from most of his life.

As they'd made love, he'd brushed his lips over her hand, unable to stop a tear from forming. Mac had taking his face in his hands, looked deeply into his eyes with tears in her own. "It's okay, Harm. It's okay," she'd whispered and he'd nodded, but the guilt still sliced through him.

"No, Mac…it's not okay," he spoke into the night. He pressed a kiss to her hair and pulled her close again.

"But it will be."

* * *

_End Chapter 15_


	16. Silent Night

_A/N: Finally Gone is back! Hope you enjoy. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 16: Silent Night**

_November 2004_

_0532 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

"Hey, Mac…what would you say to spending Christmas at my grandmother's farm, just the two of us?"

Harm ran his hands down her bare arms and threaded his long fingers through hers. They were in bed together, naked, Harm having flown out for the weekend. He'd arrived late yesterday, and they'd since spent the night in bed, making love and talking, reacquainting themselves with each other after a month apart.

The distance had been hard, but certainly not as hard as being without her, having no idea about her whereabouts. It was infinitely better than thinking she may have committed suicide.

It had also been difficult acting like nothing had changed in his life, that he was still trying to find Mac. She was still adamant about not telling anyone where she was and would completely shut down if he slipped up and mentioned her former colleagues. He'd learned to be extremely careful about that, and he couldn't deny that he harbored some resentment toward his colleagues for treating her so poorly that she'd felt the need to disappear. He supposed in a way that made it easier; if he maintained his resentment toward them, it was easier to avoid them and not accidentally spill his secret.

In his musing, he didn't notice right away that Mac had stiffened in his arms and wasn't answering him. Her breathing had also quickened, and he could see her pulse bounding in the hollow of her throat.

"Mac, baby…what's wrong? Honey, no one will know…no one has any reason to be in Pennsylvania."

"I just…I don't know if—if I c-can…it's s-so close. What if…what if…_Harm…" _She was nearly hyperventilating and the level of her anxiety threw him.

"Mac, Mac…" He shifted so he could envelope her entirely with his body, settling her between his legs before he wrapped his arms tightly around her torso. "Sweetheart, relax…it was just a suggestion. It was—" Harm was abruptly cut off by Mac's struggles to get out of his arms. Once she had her own arms free, she pounded and pushed on his, seemingly desperate to get away and he knew he had no choice but to let her go.

As soon as she was free, she scrambled off the bed and yanked open her bedroom door before disappearing down the hall. A few seconds later he heard the bathroom door slam, and he heaved a frustrated sigh…

…that ended in a pained whoosh as a heavy bundle of fur landed on his stomach.

"Jesus, Nic!" Harm groaned as the cat pressed down on his shoulders with his front paws. The animal had to be at least five pounds heavier than he was a month ago and he didn't seem to like Harm any more now than he did then. Harm tried to shove Nico-demon, as he'd come to think of Mac's cat, away, but the feline doubled down by pressing his head against Harm's forehead.

"What, Nic? I just asked if Mac wanted to come to Pennsylvania for Christmas. That's miles away from DC. She won't need to be anywhere near there. None of our friends have any reason to— "

Harm was interrupted by Nic's rough tongue on his nose. It felt weird and it made Harm sneeze, which in turn made Nicodemus hiss and jump away. The cat settled at the foot of the bed and began to wash. Clearly, he needed to get the stink of Harm off of himself.

_Great, now _I'm _acting like Nic is more than just a pet too, _he thought to himself. Harm childishly stuck his tongue out at the indignant grey tabby. He jumped a little when Nic abruptly lifted his head from his nether regions and glared at him.

"_Jesus,_ Nic," Harm said again. "What's your problem?" The cat merely blinked at him, and Harm suddenly chortled in amusement. "I know what it is, Nic. You're just pissed that you don't have testicles anymore. Look at you…just licking that empty space. You're jealous because she had you neutered. Yup, you've got no balls, while I— "

"While you what, Harm?"

Harm startled at the sound of Mac's voice, blushing from his neck all the way to the top of his ears. "Uh, nothing, Mac…"

Mac stooped down to pet Nicodemus, who had jumped from the bed and was now making little mewling sounds as he wound himself around Mac's bare legs. She was now clad in a thin robe that ended about mid-thigh, and Harm could see the red-rimmed eyes that told him she'd been crying.

"Is Harm making fun of you, Nicky?" she asked her cat ever so sweetly, and Harm rolled his eyes. "You know, Nic…" Mac whispered conspiratorially. "I think he's just jealous because you get to sleep with me all the time."

At that Nicodemus started to purr, giving Harm a look that he would have to describe as 'smug'. Mac ran her hand over Nic one last time, then stood up and walked slowly back to the bed to sit down tentatively next to him. Harm wasn't sure if she would want him to touch her, so he stayed still and waited for her to speak.

"Harm…I'm sorry about before…"

"What happened, Mac?" he asked, now taking her hand in his. It felt cold and he fought the urge to rub it between his palms to warm it up.

Tears welled up in Mac's eyes and she swiped them away with her free hand. "I don't know. I guess I just panicked. It's just so close…"

"Mac…I really don't think anyone we know will be in Pennsylvania, at least not where we'd be going."

"I know," Mac sniffled.

"Then what's the problem?" he asked gently.

She took her time to answer him and he could tell she was working hard to stay calm. "Harm…I honestly don't know why I…reacted…that way." She blushed and he knew then she was embarrassed.

"It's okay, Mac." He tried to reassure her, but she shook her head.

"No…it isn't. Not really…I mean, Harm…what happened to me? I never used to be…this way. Panicking at the very thought of…of…"

Harm scooted closer and put his arm around her. "Them?" he finished for her, and she nodded.

"It's ridiculous that I…I can't even…I can't even ask if—if she had a boy or a girl."

It took Harm a moment to realize whom she was talking about, and then it hit him. _Harriet. _She would have been pregnant when Mac left. He pulled her closer to him while he tried to figure out what he should say to her to make things better. He didn't expect her to speak first.

"Harm? What was it?"

"What?"

"What did she…"

"Oh. Boy. They had a boy."

She gave him a watery smile at that. "Oh…good. That's what little…that's what he wanted. A little brother." She picked at the hem of her robe for a moment, then surprised him with her next question. "What did they name him?"

The thought of the little boy's name brought a smile to his face. "James. James Kirk Roberts."

Mac's forehead wrinkled up a little as she contemplated that name and then her eyes widened. "Wait, isn't that—"

"Yup. And Har—_she _didn't realize it before it was a done deal."

"Oh. Oh dear!"

"Yeah, oh dear…someone was in the doghouse for a while."

"I'll bet."

Mac actually chuckled briefly, and Harm smiled back at her, but then she grew serious again. "Harm?"

"Yeah, hon?"

"Is he—is he a good big brother?"

Harm's expression softened. "The best."

"Really?"

Harm nodded. "He's great with him, Mac."

"I knew he would be." She looked down at her lap for a moment. "Harm?"

"Yeah?"

"I-I miss him." With that she burst into tears.

Harm gathered her up into his lap and she buried her face in his chest. His own eyes stinging with unshed tears, he simply kissed her hair and held her. "I know, baby. I know."

* * *

Harm eventually maneuvered them so they were lying under the covers again and now she was dozing in his arms. She'd cried for several minutes and at times he'd cried with her, but gradually her tears slowed and then finally stopped. She'd fallen asleep after that, her head on his chest, but Harm didn't join her in slumber. Instead, he stroked her hair and thought about what had just happened. She still carried so much pain inside her slender body, and he wished there were something he could do to ease it for her. Deep down, he knew she'd never be rid of it unless she faced it head on, but he wouldn't push her. She'd only feel cornered, and when she felt cornered, she always lashed out. Their time together was all too brief as it was; he didn't want it to end in a fight.

As he lay there, he wondered when he would be able to see her again. If she refused to go to Pennsylvania over Christmas, he'd find a way to get to her here, but their time together would have to be shortened, and he was already dreading the fact that he had to leave her again tomorrow. He didn't want to lose any precious time with her. For what seemed to be the millionth time, he wished she would just let him tell everyone about her…they'd welcome her back with open arms, and he wouldn't have to hide anymore.

He'd been having the increasingly nagging thought that his relationship with Mac couldn't go anywhere if she didn't actually exist, and right now, for intents and purposes, she didn't. There was no Sarah MacKenzie anymore. There was just Samantha O'Hara, and that woman may as well have been living in an alternate universe, because her world and the world of Harmon Rabb, Jr could never be one and the same.

Fighting a wave of depression, Harm closed his eyes and did his best to forget everything outside of this room, because at least in here, Harm and Mac existed together. After several minutes, when it became obvious that Mac was sleeping soundly and he wasn't, Harm carefully extricated himself from her arms and set out to make them some breakfast. As he left the room, Nic brushed past him and leapt onto the bed, making himself comfortable at Mac's side as Harm watched him. Once he was settled, the cat stared back, unblinking, until Harm turned once again toward the kitchen. He could still feel the cat's unrelenting gaze as he walked down the hall.

* * *

Some forty-five minutes later, Mac emerged from her bedroom. She'd opted to wear one of his sweatshirts instead of her robe, and as usual, Harm thought her adorable. He flashed a small grin at her as he poured some orange juice for them, then motioned her toward the table.

"Go ahead and sit down, Mac. Great timing, by the way. Everything's almost ready. Harm turned back to the stove and dished up some of his especially fluffy scrambled eggs, but when he turned back around, Mac was still standing in the doorway.

"Mac? You okay?" He set the plates of food on the table and stepped over to her, taking her hands in his as he waited for her to answer. "Mac?"

Finally, she nodded, and he released the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "Yeah…yeah, I am, Harm, and I-I'm sorry about…before, and—"

"Mac, you don't have to be sorry," he interrupted, giving her hands a squeeze.

"—and I…I really would like to come to the farm with you," she said at the same time, and Harm wondered if he'd heard her right.

"Um, what, Mac?" Mac's expression turned to one of apprehension.

"The farm…I'd like to come…that is, if the offer still stands…" Her words faded into uncertainty. Surely she didn't really think he'd rescind his invitation?

"Mac," he was quick to reassure, "Of course, it still stands." He let go of her hands then and pulled her into a fierce embrace. "I can't wait!" He couldn't resist lifting her off the ground and spinning her around before he gave her a hearty kiss. "I can't wait, Mac," he said again, more calmly this time. A few seconds later he sprang into action. "Hey, let's sit down and eat, and then we can book your tickets. I'm glad you finally got internet access, Mac. We can do it all online." With that, he hustled her to the breakfast table with a wide grin, a grin that stayed on his face for the rest of his too short visit.

* * *

_Christmas 2004_

_2135 Local _

_Harrisburg International Ai_

_Harrisburg, PA_

"Sam! Over here!"

Mac looked around the baggage claim area. The voice she'd heard calling for Sam sounded a lot like Harm's, but why would he—

"Sam!" And suddenly Harm was before her, lifting her off the ground in one of his fierce embraces. He gave her an enthusiastic kiss, then set her back down before picking up her bag.

"Sam?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.

"It's your 'official' name, and I thought, just in case…"

Mac nodded in understanding. He was right, of course. She _was _Samantha O'Hara now; it was only when she was alone with Harm that she was just Mac.

"How was your flight?" he asked as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and began ushering her to the exit.

"Uneventful, thank goodness."

"That's good. Say…did you want to grab a bite here in town before we head to the farm? It's about eighty miles from here and since it's pretty late already…

Mac was about to agree, but a feeling of dread settled over her and she suddenly felt terribly exposed. No matter how unlikely it was that they'd see somebody they both knew, the idea of it scared her even more than she'd expected. "Um, no…Harm, could we, uh, just get out of here, please?" She nervously scanned the crowd around her as if she expected the admiral himself to leap out at them. Harm's expression was one of concern when she glanced up at him. "Sorry," she whispered, embarrassed. "It's just—"

"I get it, Mac. Don't worry about it. You're right—let's just get on the road. We'll stop if we need to, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed, and the two continued on.

* * *

Christmas Day dawned cold but bright, the sunshine glinting off the dusting a fresh snow that had fallen the night before. Harm was sitting on the porch swing when Mac found him, and for a moment she just studied him. He looked sad and withdrawn, and she was about to sit next to him and ask him what was wrong when it hit her. _Of course._

"Harm?" she asked softly, but it still startled him. He turned toward her, still looking forlorn, though he did smile and pat the seat next to him, motioning for her to sit with him. She did so, then took his hand in hers. "You missed the Wall this year. I'm sorry."

Harm wrinkled his forehead in what appeared to be mild confusion. "What? Oh…don't worry about that. I'll go next year."

"But still…"

"No, Mac, I'm really okay with that. I was actually just thinking of all the Christmases I spent here with my grandmother."

"Oh…" She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he pulled his hand from hers to wrap his arm around her.

"In a way, I feel like this is the first Christmas without her. Last year, I had her estate to take care of, I started at JAG again, and then I learned you were gone…there was just too much going on. This year, though…" His voice faded, and Mac glanced up at him, surprised to find him smiling down at her. "This year…I have so much more. I have you…and I think that just makes me wish my grandmother was still here so I could share all this—this happiness with her." His eyes went a little misty then, and Mac wrapped her arms around his waist and held on tight.

"I wish I could have met her, Harm," she said sincerely as she listened to his heart beat beneath her ear.

"So do I, Mac. You would have loved her, and I know she would have loved you too."

Mac lifted her head so she could look him in the eye. "Tell me about her?"

Harm kissed her forehead and she settled her head back on his chest, and he began to tell her everything about Sarah Elizabeth Rabb.

* * *

"Well, the world's smallest turkey is now stuffed and in the oven," Harm announced as he sat on the couch beside her. The bright winter sun filtered through the windows, but the room was also brightened by the fire in the fireplace and the lights on the tree. Harm had gotten here the day before Mac arrived and decorated everything for her, the first time in years he'd put forth any such effort, and he was rather proud of the results. Mac had seemed delighted by it at any rate.

Mac snuggled up to him and he held her close for a moment before he touched the gold pendant and chain around her neck. "You really like it?" he asked, and she immediately nodded.

"I love it, Harm. It's perfect." The pendant was an intricately fashioned rose on a simple chain and as soon as he saw it, he thought of her, even though at the time he didn't know where she was or even if she were alive. He'd bought it anyway and then hid it away next to his grandmother's engagement ring in his sock drawer. He'd honestly thought about bringing the ring too; it had always been meant for her, but he knew she wasn't ready for that. Besides, there was still the logistics of this relationship to consider, and he knew she was still nowhere near revealing herself to the world. So, he'd just given her the necklace, which was enough for now.

He actually did have something else for her, but he wasn't sure how it would be received. It was from her old life, but he knew she'd treasured it then. Now he just had to decide whether she'd treasured it now.

Mac must have sensed that he had something on his mind because she leaned away from him, an inquisitive glint in her amber eyes. "Harm? I can hear you thinking…what's up?"

Harm hesitated a moment, then decided to give her his other gift and let the chips fall where they may. "Um, Mac…I have something else for you…" Her eyes widened and he wondered if she thought he was talking about an engagement ring. _Not this time, sweetheart, _he thought, then got up and retrieved the rather large package from where it had been hidden on the landing of the stairs to the cellar. Mac sat up and perched herself on the edge of the couch as he placed it in front of her.

"What's this, Harm?" she asked, and he nodded toward it.

"Open it and see." Mac hesitated a moment, then started tearing the paper that covered it away. When she had it partly unwrapped, she sat back with a startled 'oh.' Her eyes filled with tears and folded her hands in her lap.

Harm's heart sank. He'd hope she'd be pleased to see it, but he'd clearly been wrong. "I'm sorry, Mac…I thought you'd like it. I know you can't exactly take it with you on the plane, but I—I thought maybe we could set it out here at the farm. It would look perfect by the door, just like when it was at your place…" Mac was crying into her hands now, and Harm sat down next to her, cursing his stupidity as he pulled her into his arms.

"Mac, honey, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…don't cry…I'll take it away…"

"N-No H-Harm…don't d-do that. It—it's just that I never thought I'd see it again." She pulled away and ran her hand over the letters of her old name that her uncle had carved into the little table. "I love it, Harm. And I would love it to be here at the farm. Thank you." She threw her arms around him and he felt much better about things, but she was still crying.

"You miss your uncle, don't you," he asked after a while, knowing the question was an obvious one. She nodded against him and sniffled loudly. "He's okay, you know. I've visited him a couple of times since—since you left."

"Y-you h-have?" she hiccupped, and he nodded.

"Yeah, I have…Mac, he is pretty broken up about you…"

"I know. I knew he would be," she answered regretfully.

"Why didn't you at least tell him about your plans?" Harm asked gently.

She shrugged. "I think I wanted him to have plausible deniability. Even though I didn't really expect anyone to ask him about me, I didn't want him to have to lie if somebody did."

_Oh, Mac…"_Mac, for the record, _everyone _asked him about you. The admiral chewed me a new six for asking him again and again about you …they-they do care, Mac." He watched as that shuttered look came over her eyes again, and he decided he'd better steer the conversation away from that topic.

"So, Mac…those potatoes aren't going to peel themselves. Wanna help?" Mac grimaced and he grinned, knowing full well she wouldn't enjoy food prep. She was a trooper, however, and the next thing he knew, they were side by side at the sink, peeling potatoes.

"I'd better get through security, Harm," Mac said a couple of days later as she prepared to fly back to Montana. The Harrisburg airport was fairly crowded, and she hadn't wanted to arrive at her gate any earlier than necessary. She just wanted to be able to fade into the masses.

"Yeah, you should…I'll miss you, Mac." Mac's eyes welled with tears and she threw her arms around him.

"Not as much as I'll miss you, Flyboy."

"Wanna bet?" he asked, and she lightly smacked his chest.

"Must everything be a competition with you?" She smiled as she said it, so he knew she wasn't actually irritated.

"You know me, sweetheart."

Her smile softened into one more loving. "Yeah, I do…Harm, thanks for this Christmas. I think it—it's the best one I've ever had."

"You're welcome, Mac." They stood there just staring at each other, and then suddenly they were kissing passionately. When the kiss finally broke, they were both a little breathless, both a little flushed.

"Well," Mac said after a moment. "I'd better go."

"Yeah…I love you, Mac."

"I love you too. See you next month?" she asked, biting her lip.

"I'll be there, sweetie. Call me when you get in, okay? No matter what time?"

"I will. Goodbye, Harm." The two embraced one last time, and then she turned to head toward the security check point. After a couple of steps, she turned back around.

"Harm?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

Mac took a deep breath. "I was thinking…the next time you…you see my uncle…can you…can you tell him I'm okay? That-that you found me?" She bit her lower lip again while she waited for his response.

"Are you sure, Mac?"

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Yeah…yeah, I'm sure. I know he'll keep my secret if you ask him to."

Harm nodded solemnly. "Okay, Mac…I'll tell him."

Mac threw her arms around him again in a brief embrace. "Thank you, Harm. I love you." And with that, she turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Harm stared in her direction long after she was gone from his sight. He was still floored at her request, and within the surprise, there was a tiny bit of hope. If she was ready to tell her uncle about her whereabouts, maybe, just maybe…she'd soon be ready to tell the people at JAG too.

He could only hope.

* * *

_End Chapter 16_


	17. It's Hard to Be Me

_A/N: Next chapter! It's kind of a hodgepodge of things…_

**Gone**

**Chapter 17: It's Hard to Be Me**

_June 2005_

_1621 Local_

_JAG Headquarters _

_Falls Church, VA_

"You should get out more, Commander."

Harm looked up from his desk to see a very pregnant Harriet in the doorway. It was her last day before she went on maternity leave, and with the way she looked today, he wouldn't be surprised if she ended up giving birth in the admiral's office once again. She and Bud were having a girl this time, and they were very excited. Harm was happy for them, but he'd nearly blown his secret when Harriet had told him about the sex of the baby…

* * *

_Flashback…_

"_Good morning, sir." _

"_Good morning, Harriet. You're looking cheerful this morning," Harm answered as Harriet came up beside him. Her smile widened immediately._

"_Did Bud tell you? We found out yesterday that we're having a girl!"_

_Harm stopped walking and caught Harriet's arm. "You are? That's wonderful! I'm so happy for you and Mac will be—" Harm cut himself off, his eyes widening in horror at his slip up. "I mean…she would be…would have been—" Finally, he just threw up his hands in defeat and hoped Harriet would think he was just living in a dream world._

"_I'm sorry, Harriet."_

_Harriet rested her hand on his arm. "It's alright, sir." She took a deep breath before she spoke again. "You still think about her a lot, don't you, sir."_

_Harm nodded. "Everyday, Harriet. Everyday." _

"_Oh, sir…" she said sympathetically and gave his arm a squeeze. Harm covered her hand with his._

"_It's okay, Harriet," he said, relieved when she nodded and went about her business. _

_Harm went into his office and shut the door. He actually had no idea if Mac would be happy they were having another baby, much less a girl. Okay, that wasn't true…of course, Mac would be glad for them, but it wouldn't be the same as it would have been before Paraguay. It would be so much easier if he could convince Mac that their friends regretted their treatment of her, but on the other hand, it must have been pretty bad if she'd felt the need to become a completely different person. _

_He didn't want to think about it, but his resentment toward his colleagues was growing._

* * *

Harm brought himself back to the present. He wanted to tell Harriet that he got out plenty because his monthly visits to Mac were all he really needed, but that wasn't even close to the truth. He _didn't _get out much; he rarely accepted invitations to join anyone from JAG at McMurphy's for a drink or the like, and he certainly didn't seek out their companionship…and seeing Mac only once a month wasn't ever going to be enough.

He gave Harriet a half-hearted smile. "I get out enough, Harriet," he lied.

"Really, sir? When was the last time you— "

"That will be all, Lieutenant," Harm said mildly, but it was enough to make Harriet blush.

"Yes, sir," she said crisply, and was about to turn around when Harm called her back. "Harriet?"

"Yes?"

"Enjoy your leave, Harriet, and I can't wait to see your little girl."

Harriet smiled brilliantly. "Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome. Dismissed." He grinned back at her, his smile faltering a bit when her expression turned serious as she gazed intently at him.

"What is it, Harriet?" he asked, wishing she would just leave him to his thoughts.

"Um, sir?" she asked tentatively.

"Yes?"

"What was Colonel MacKenzie's middle name?"

Harm's face warmed at her question and he was sure he was blushing, though he didn't know why. "Um…Jane. It was, uh, Jane."

Harriet nodded. "Jane…" she said to herself, then turned and walked away. Harm wondered for a moment why Harriet would want to know Mac's middle name, then shrugged and returned to his work. He had just a few more tasks to complete and then he would be off for the next two weeks. He was, of course, going to visit Mac.

Harm counted himself exceedingly lucky that he'd managed to see her once a month since September. If the admiral wondered why his chief of staff was taking more vacation days than he ever had previously, he didn't say anything; Harm figured his CO could very well think that he was using those to look for Mac, and that was fine with him.

Other than his week-long trip in October, Harm at most took two days and then the weekend to visit, and the time always went too fast. This time, however, he had almost half a month, and it was hard to keep his excitement at bay. First, he was going to fly to Montana to head to Glacier National Park with Mac. Then, he was going to fly to Pennsylvania and the farm and take care of a few things while Mac covered the store for Mary. She would join him a few days later and they were going to celebrate the Fourth of July together. Belleville always had a little festival with a fireworks show in the evening, and Harm had loved it as a kid. He hoped Mac would feel the same.

He also hoped Mac would feel the same about something else…

This time, he planned on bringing Mac's ring with him and he fully intended to propose. He was certain she felt the same about him as he felt about her; what he didn't know was how she would react to him asking her to spend the rest of her life with him. Obviously, the big elephant in the room would be the fact that she lived in Montana as Samantha O'Hara, while he was still just Harm stationed in DC. She'd made it fairly clear she had no intention whatsoever of ever setting foot in DC again. He honestly had no idea how to solve that issue, but he just couldn't wait any longer to ask her to be his. He would just have to hope things would work out…

_Somehow..._

* * *

_0542 Local_

_Belton Chalet_

_West Glacier, MT_

Mac rolled over in bed and snuggled into Harm's warm body. They'd left a window open and the air around them was now deliciously crisp. Harm, not yet completely awake, opened his legs for her and she slid one of hers in between. He immediately folded his leg over her hip, putting them in intimate contact with each other, but Mac was content to just be cuddled by him with her face buried in his chest. The hairs there tickled her nose as she pressed a kiss between his pecs, and she smiled against him.

"Morning, baby," he mumbled as he tightened his hold on her. "What are we doing today?"

"Besides this?"

Harm chuckled and Mac felt it rumble through his chest. "As much as I'd love to stay in bed with you all day, I'd like to see some of the park too."

"Yeah, me too." Mac thought for a moment. "Well, I checked and Logan Pass is open…we could drive up there…it's along the Continental Divide and Mary says it's gorgeous. There's some trailheads there too."

Harm lazily stroked his fingertips down her spine. "Sounds great," he said as she shivered.

"Cold?"

"A little…but that's not…ohhh, Harm…" Her words ended in a soft moan as Harm rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his. His trailed kisses down her cheek to her throat, then travelled back up to capture her lips in a passionate kiss. She felt him hardening against her core, gasping as he slid his hand in between them to massage her sex. She was already wet when one finger, then two dipped into her, and before long she was coming around them. As soon as she came down from her high, Harm was sliding his member inside of her, and they made love twice before they finally got up to shower and start their day.

* * *

_2028 Local_

_Belton Chalet_

_West Glacier, MT_

"I had a great time today, Mac," Harm said as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They had just finished eating at the Chalet's restaurant and were now starting the climb back up to their room.

"Me too, Harm. It was beautiful up there, wasn't it?"

The two of them had driven up the Going-to-the-Sun Road to Logan Pass and then hiked around the trails there. It turned out to be a beautiful day, though it was still cool up that high, and they were treated to magnificent views of the surrounding area. Tomorrow they planned to do a little more hiking, this time fairly close to where they were staying at the Belton Chalet, which Harm found delightfully rustic and cozy. The chalet was located right by the west entrance of the park, where there were a number of trailheads within a few miles of it. They were considering taking a boat ride around Lake McDonald which was also close to the west entrance. Mary had recommended this location, and so far, it had been perfect.

"It was, Mac. I loved it," he answered before they stepped onto a wooden landing. It overlooked the restaurant as well as the mountains and trees in the distance and before they took the next set of stairs, Harm led her to the railing. They stood there silently for a moment, Mac tucked into Harm's side, while nuzzled her hair with his nose and kissed her temple, waiting until another couple passed before he spoke again. "What was your favorite part?" he asked, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

"Hmmmmm," she thought for a moment. "The views were spectacular, and I really loved the mountain goats."

Harm chuckled. "I'm sure. Is that what you really meant when you said you'd like to get married on a hillside with goats?"

"Maybe," she grinned. "Might be a little windy and cool there, though."

"I suppose so," he agreed as Mac suddenly yawned. "Do we need to get you to bed, sweetheart?" he asked, tightening his hold on her.

"Hmmmm…sorry. Somebody kept me up last night."

"Oh? Somebody kept me up too."

Mac looked up at him with an impish grin. "Oh, you were more than up, sailor. Many, many times…"

"I was, wasn't I," he quipped cockily.

"Think you can do it again tonight?"

Harm gave a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose. If I must."

"You must," she said archly, and Harm turned her in his arms.

"Then your wish is my command," he whispered just before he lowered his lips to hers.

The two lovers kissed passionately for several moments before Harm led them back to their room and their bed, and not long after they were making love again.

* * *

_0343 Local_

_Belton Chalet_

_West Glacier, MT_

Mac sat up in bed with a gasp. Her heart was pounding and she didn't realize it yet, but tears were slowly dripping down her cheeks. Her nightmare was fading quickly, but it still left her fearful and for some reason overwhelmingly sad. She reached for Harm but her hand only found emptiness, and then she felt truly bereft. The sobs came then and she buried her face in her hands.

* * *

Harm stepped out of the tiny bathroom only to be greeted by the sight of Mac sobbing in the middle of the bed. He rushed over to her and immediately pulled her into his arms. "Mac, honey, what is it? Sweetheart, don't cry…you're okay, I'm here. I'm here…"

Harm assumed she'd had a nightmare, but her sobs actually sounded more broken-hearted than scared. He continued calling to her and holding her, but it was many minutes before she finally calmed. By then he'd shifted them so they were stretched out on the bed, and Mac clung to him like he was her last lifeline. When all he heard from her was an occasional sniffle, he called her name.

"Yeah, Harm?" she answered shakily.

"What happened, Mac?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I-I was alone."

"Honey, I just went to the bathroom-"

He was surprised when Mac actually laughed. "I know that, Harm. I'm not that needy. It was a nightmare."

"Paraguay?"

At that Mac's brow furrowed. "No…but I don't remember anything except I was alone. I had no one…like-like before…" Her voice faded away and she suddenly rolled away from him. "It was only a stupid dream…let's just go back to sleep, Harm."

"_Maaac…"_

"Harm, I don't want to talk about it. Just-just..." She threw up her hand in apparent defeat and he heard her sniffle.

"Mac?" he asked after a moment.

"What?" she asked irritably, but he could hear the undercurrent of tears.

"Can I just hold you?" He tentatively rested a hand on her arm, holding his breath as he awaited her response.

Finally, Mac nodded, and then he was gently coaxing her to turn over so he could fold her into his loving embrace. She fell asleep while he stroked her hair, and he stared into the night, wondering for the millionth time what had happened to her at JAG, and the smoldering anger he'd been feeling toward his colleagues grew.

Of course, that was nothing compared to the anger he felt toward himself.

_I'm so sorry, Mac. _

He vowed she would never be alone again.

* * *

_1034 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

"So, what did you two think of Glacier?" Mary asked as she refilled Harm and Mac's coffee. They'd returned from the park the evening before and had come into the shop for a breakfast of pastries and scones while Mary filled Mac in on the happenings of the store. Mac would be in charge for the next three days and Harm would be flying back to Pennsylvania early tomorrow morning.

"It was beautiful," Harm answered, and Mac nodded in agreement.

"Yes…we'd like to go back again, maybe later this summer and spend more time there. We probably didn't even see a third of it," Mac continued.

"Yes, Dan and I go there every couple of years, and I think we've found something new to see every time."

The three chatted for a few more minutes, then Harm left the women to discuss their business. He looked around in the antique section for a while, and then he just watched Mac as she moved to greet a customer. She wasn't working per se, but it was just natural for her to step in and help out.

It was strange. He never thought she would be content to work in a place like this after her career as a marine and lawyer, but she actually looked happy. She smiled easily, laughed frequently, and he found himself smiling as he watched her move gracefully about the aisles.

"Don't worry, Harm. I'll give her back to you in a minute." Mary had come up beside him and he gave her a friendly smile.

"That's okay, Mary. She's enjoying herself." He nodded in Mac's direction.

"You know…" Mary said thoughtfully after a moment. "Sam's been a lot happier since you found her."

"Has she?" Harm asked mildly, but inside his heart thrilled a little.

"Oh, yes…I have to admit that I expect her to tell me any day that she's moving back with you."

Harm immediately sobered at her words. "I don't think so, Mary. She's been pretty adamant about staying away from there." He looked down at his shoes. "Can say I blame her," he muttered to himself, but Mary heard him.

"Harm? What happened there? What made her decide to leave everything she knew and move here?"

Harm shrugged sadly. "I wish I knew…the short answer is that the people she thought were her friends, myself included, let her down, and I for one will regret it until my dying day."

Mary gave Harm's arm a squeeze. "Well, clearly she's forgiven you…and maybe someday she'll forgive them too."

"I don't think that's going to happen," Harm replied, sounding more bitter than he had intended.

"Well, you never know…" Mary said noncommittedly, then turned her focus squarely on him. "Harm? How are you doing with this? I know you visit as much you can and that it's probably never enough for both of you and it's probably miserable to leave, but it has to be just as hard or harder to keep up the appearance that you still haven't found her."

Harm didn't want to think about that right now. It _was_ hard, and he knew he'd grown increasingly surly at work. He missed Mac terribly and each time he had to leave her, it got worse. She'd been to the farm, but there was no way she'd come and visit him in DC, even if she never left his apartment. The flights this way were pricey, and while he could swing it, it did cut into the money he'd inherited from his grandmother's estate. He'd wanted to use that money solely to take care of the farm, but as he'd used most of his savings to finance his trip to Paraguay, he found himself using it for his travels as well.

"It is," was all he said, and Mary apparently took the hint that this wasn't a topic he wanted to chat about. After a moment, she spoke again, asking a question Harm had asked himself many a time.

"I wonder sometimes…I've always known there was more to Sam…_Mac_…than she told me when she first came here, but I didn't really expect to discover she was a lawyer and a marine to boot. Now I keep waiting for the day when she decides that this life is too simple for her. Even if she doesn't reveal herself to the world again, how long can I expect to keep her here at a job that's so beneath her abilities?"

Harm shook his head. "Mary…nothing would make me happier than to have Mac back there with me, but please don't doubt that she loves it here and loves this job—and I know there is nothing simple about running a business."

"Thanks, Harm," Mary said eventually. "Now, let me go get Sam and kick her out of here. I know you're leaving tomorrow and even if she'll see you again in a few days, I know she'll want to spend as much time as she can with you." With that, Mary moved away to encourage Mac to go with Harm to enjoy her last few hours here with him.

* * *

Harm was waiting outside the shop for Mac, who'd realized she'd left her keys by the register. It was another beautiful day in Montana, and he breathed deeply the fresh and clean air. He knew he was beginning to love this place as much as Mac did. He glanced through the window when Mac didn't come right back out, smiling to himself when he saw her chatting with yet another customer. Samantha O'Hara had certainly made an impression on this town. He was going to step back in and join her, but then his cell vibrated in his pocket.

"Rabb," he answered crisply, and he was immediately greeted by the sound of an enthusiastic Bud.

"_She's here, sir!"_ he crowed. _"Seven pounds, fifteen ounces, twenty inches long."_ It took Harm a moment to realize Bud was talking about his new daughter.

"That's wonderful, Bud!" No matter his irritation with his coworkers, a baby was always something to celebrate. "How's Harriet?"

"_She's fine, sir. Just fine."_

"Thank goodness. I'm really happy for you guys. Do we have a name yet?" He cast a furtive glance toward the shop window again and was relieved to see Mac still talking to the customer. He was surprised when Bud seemed to hesitate. "Bud?"

"_Uh, yes…yes we do have a name." _Bud sounded vaguely uncomfortable.

"Well, spill it, Bud. What did you name her?"

"_Sir, uh…we didn't exactly know how to tell you this…but her name is Mackenzie. Mackenzie Jane Roberts." _

"Oh…" was all Harm could get out. He was floored that they named her after Mac, and he couldn't wait to tell her.

_Wait a minute…_

Would she really want to know? Would it upset her, or would it help her realize how Bud and Harriet really felt about her? He didn't know what to do.

"_I hope that's okay with you, sir. Sir?" _He didn't immediately realize Bud was speaking to him again.

"Yeah, Bud…um, what?"

"_I asked if it was okay that we named her after Colonel MacKenzie. It…it just seemed right, and we wanted to honor her memory, somehow…"_

Harm hated that Bud spoke about Mac as if she were dead, but he was quick to reassure him. "Of course I don't mind, Bud…Colonel MacKenzie…_Mac,_ will be…uh, would be…honored, I know it."

"You know what?"

Harm spun around at the sound of Mac's voice, and his heart sank and fluttered at the same time at the expression on her face. She had gone pale and there was a stony anger in her eyes.

"_Harm? Did I call at a bad time? I'm sorry, you're probably with your parents. I'll let you go. Just wanted to share the good news."_

Harm remembered that he'd implied he was going to be spending time in San Diego with his mother and stepfather. "No problem, Bud. Congratulations. I can't wait to meet her." Harm's eyes never left Mac's as he ended the call.

"Mac…"

She held up her hand. "Did you tell him?"

"What?"

"Did. You. Tell. Him?!" Mac practically shouted on the sidewalk and Harm looked around them nervously. Thankfully there was no one nearby, and he moved to calm Mac.

"Mac, calm down. Of course, I didn't. Bud just called…they—they just had a little girl."

Mac's eyes narrowed, but he could actually see her forcing herself to relax. "Oh…I—I'm sorry, Harm." She stepped closer to him, looking contrite. "Good…good for them." She started walking down the sidewalk and Harm hesitated a moment before going after her.

"Mac?" he called after her, and finally, she stopped. "I really didn't tell him anything." His eyes begged him to believe her. After a moment, her shoulders slumped.

"I know, Harm…I'm sorry."

Harm pulled her into a quick embrace. "It's okay, Mac. Let's go home, alright?" She nodded against him, and together, they walked back to her house.

* * *

_2321 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

"Harm?"

Mac's voice split the night and Harm felt her warm breath on his cheek.

"Yeah, baby?"

"What, um, what did they name her?"

Harm had been dreading this moment since Bud had told him about the baby.

"You mean…"

"Bu—and Har—" He heard her swallow. It pained him that she couldn't even say their names. "Their baby girl…"

"Mac…" He reached over and grabbed her hand and held it in between them.

"Just tell me, Harm."

"Okay…"

"Harm?" she answered, her tone full of warning.

"Okay," he said again and sat up, flipping on the bedside lamp before he turned toward her. "Okay, It's, ah…Mackenzie. Mackenzie Jane," he said meaningfully.

"What?" Her breath was coming in quick gasps now and he reached his arm out to rest on her shoulder.

"MacKenzie Jane Roberts. They named her after you— "

"_No!"_

"Mac— "

"No," she said again. She shrugged his hand off and scooted away from him.

"Mac, please…they wanted to— "

"_STOP IT!" _she shouted, and suddenly she was scrambling off the bed and running for the door. She disappeared into the hall and before long, he heard her retching in the bathroom.

Harm ran his hand over his face and when he looked up again, Mac's cat was sitting next to him on the bed, staring at him with unblinking eyes.

"What am I going to do, Nic?" he asked, and held out his hand to the cat. If nothing else, they both loved the woman currently falling apart in the bathroom. Maybe it was time they became allies.

Ignoring the little voice inside that screamed_ 'he's just a cat!' _Harm ran his hand tentatively over Nic's grey striped head. He was surprised when Nic climbed onto his lap and nudged his head under his hand again. Harm slid it over the cat's head and down his back, startled when the cat began to gently purr.

"She's hurting, Nic, and I don't know how to fix it," he lamented as he continued to stroke Nic's fur.

Unfortunately, Nicodemus didn't have any advice, and the two of them just stared sadly at each other until Harm got up to check on Mac.

* * *

_End Chapter 17_


	18. Late

_A/N: This is a fairly short chapter, but it seemed like a good place to break. It's a little bit of filler. But 18 is my favorite number, just sayin'!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 18: Late**

_July 2005_

_0531 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

"Harm?"

Harm looked up from the suitcase he was packing to see Mac standing in the doorway of her bedroom. Her eyes were still red and puffy, and he knew she hadn't gotten any more sleep than he had.

"I'm sorry about last night," she continued.

The night before, after he told Mac about Bud and Harriet naming their little girl after her, he'd gone into the bathroom to check on her. She was sitting up against the tub, legs hugged tightly to her, looking almost tiny as she curled herself into a ball. She was sobbing into her knees and he crouched down next to her, softly speaking as he stroked her hair and rubbed her shoulders. She eventually collapsed against him and he wrapped her in his arms, and through her sobs, he could hear her ask 'why' over and over. He tried to answer her, tried to tell her Bud and Harriet had named their baby MacKenzie because they loved her, but she'd refused to hear it. When she'd calmed again, he'd wanted to take her back to bed, but she refused. "You go, Harm. I just want to be alone for a while," she'd said, and he'd had no choice but to leave her to her thoughts.

"Okay, Mac," he'd whispered, then kissed her hair before he stood up and left the bathroom. Nic had trotted in as he left, and when he turned his head to glance back at Mac, he saw her pull the cat onto her lap and bury her face in his fur. Harm had felt a stab of jealousy, but he'd merely turned away again without saying anything and returned to the bedroom. At least she had someone…_something, _he corrected himself, to comfort her. He'd stayed up and waited for her to come back to bed, but she never did, and he found himself only dozing in fits and starts.

Back in the present, Harm nodded in acknowledgement, then turned back to his packing. He wasn't angry with her, but he supposed he was hurt that she hadn't come back to him for comfort. He zipped up his duffle bag closed after adding his shaving kit, hearing a sniffle coming from Mac's direction as he lifted his bag onto his shoulder. He wanted to remain aloof, but Mac's tears always had a way of undoing him. She'd never cried that often, so when she did, his heart would break and he would have the overwhelming desire to comfort her, to make whatever was hurting her go away. He tried to maintain his current stoicism, but another sniffle and a watery plea from Mac finally did him in.

"Harm, please…" Harm dropped his bag and rushed to her side to pull her into his arms. She clung to him and choked out another apology, but he shook his head, gently shushing her before kissing her hair. Eventually, he tried asking her about what had happened last night, but as usual, she refused to answer. Harm didn't push; he in no way wanted to leave with her angry with him, so he did the only thing he could do. He just held her until he absolutely had to leave for the airport, whispering his goodbyes against her hair before silently departing with one last 'I love you'.

As he drove away from Mac's house, a feeling of unease blossomed in his chest, a feeling he knew wouldn't abate until he could hold Mac in his arms once again…or at least he hoped it would.

* * *

_1600 Local_

_Glacier Park International Airport _

_Kalispell, MT_

"What do you mean, cancelled?" Mac asked the agent at the check-in counter, something like panic settling in her chest.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. The plane scheduled to fly to Salt Lake City is having mechanical issues and the flight crew has already logged too many hours. I can get you on the flight leaving tomorrow at the same time with the same itinerary, but of course that would delay your arrival by a whole day."

Mac stared at the agent, her eyes filling with tears. It was embarrassing, but for the last few days she'd been uneasy, the feeling that something was going to go wrong with this trip tormenting her as she moved about the aisles of the store or tried to sleep at night. It appeared her fears had been warranted, for here she was, facing an almost unacceptable delay. "Is that the only option? Are there any other flights, other itineraries, that would get me there sooner?"

The agent at least seemed sympathetic as she started to type something on her keyboard. Her fingers flew but by her expression, Mac was losing hope. Then, just as the agent started to shake her head, her disappointed expression morphed into one of triumph.

"Okay—there's one more seat on a flight to Seattle. It leaves in 3 hours. With connecting flights and layovers, you'll be getting to Harrisburg just a couple hours later than you originally planned. From Seattle, you'll go to—"

"I'll take it," Mac interrupted, and the agent nodded and started booking the flight.

"There you go," the other woman said as she handed Mac her boarding passes. "It will be leaving through Gate 1. You'll have about an hour layover in Seattle before you leave for Dulles."

Mac's head snapped up at the mention of the DC-area airport. Her heart started to pound, and she suddenly felt dizzy. "D-Dulles?" she stammered out.

The agent looked up from her computer screen with a smile. "Yes. Dulles to Harrisbu—ma'am? Are you okay?"

Mac was sure she'd gone absolutely white and she had already broken out into a cold sweat. She had to get away before she humiliated herself, so she mumbled an affirmative reply and hefted her carryon bag onto her shoulder. She headed first to the bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face, then stumbled into a stall, locking the door before sitting down hard on the toilet.

_Dulles. Dulles. Dulles, _she kept chanting in her mind, rocking back and forth as she tried to collect herself. There was no way she could get on a plane to DC. Absolutely no way. Shakily she reached into her purse for her cellphone, intent on calling Harm to tell him she'd be delayed by a day, but then remembered where she was. She wasn't about to be one of those people who chatted while on the toilet.

Mac splashed more water on her face before she left the bathroom, then pulled out her phone and flipped it open. Her thumb hovered over the 'dial' button for several seconds before she angrily flipped it shut. Glancing at the check in area, she saw the line had grown exponentially and by now, with so many people needing to be rebooked, the flight from here to Salt Lake City could very well be full.

Mac felt her trip to Harm slipping through her fingers. She missed him terribly of course, but for some reason, this time she was almost desperate to see him. It was almost as like if she didn't see him now, she'd never see him again. Finally, with a deep sigh, she gathered her things, making up her mind then and there that she'd get on that plan to Seattle. She'd call Harm once she made it through security and let him know of the slight delay, and then do her best to keep calm. Besides, hundreds of flights left from Seattle and hundreds of flights went through Dulles. There were millions of people between the two cities. The odds of her running into someone from her past had to be nearly astronomical.

She'd be fine.

* * *

_1545 Local_

_Rabb Farm _

_Belleville, PA_

Harm stepped out on his grandmother's front porch and scanned the long gravel driveway and the road beyond. He had expected Mac to be here a good forty minutes ago, but there was still no sign of her.

He'd intended to pick her up at the airport in Harrisburg, but when she'd called and told him she'd be delayed, they'd decided she'd just rent a car. Harm had had a meeting earlier today regarding the sale of some of his grandmother's fields. Bob Miller had been farming that land for years and since Harm knew he'd never take up actual farming and Bob was offering him a more than fair price, he'd decided to sell. The meeting was a success, but with Mac's change of schedule, he wouldn't have been able to pick her up for at least a couple of hours after her arrival.

Harm had to admit she'd sounded a little off when she'd called to tell him she'd picked up her rental and was on her way. He at first passed it off as fatigue; after all, she'd spent the night on an airplane, but now, with her becoming later by the second, he'd grown worried. _Very _worried. Something wasn't right here.

Ten minutes later, when Harm was about to try Mac's cell for the third time, a small red sedan turned into the drive. A few seconds later he could make out Mac's form in the driver's seat, and he practically wilted in relief.

He hopped off the porch as she parked the car in front of the house, not bothering to wait for her to shut off the car before he opened her door.

"Mac! Where've you been? I was getting worried!" he declared as she unbuckled her seatbelt. It was then that he noticed her hand was shaking, and when he finally took a good look at her, he was shocked at what he saw.

Mac was absolutely white, and It wasn't just her hands that were shaking. Her whole body trembled, and Harm felt his heart thump hard in his chest. "Mac?"

"I-I missed a turn leaving Harrisburg…had to backtrack," she said in near-monotone as he stepped back so she could get out of the car. He steadied her with a hand on her arm.

"Oh. That's okay, Mac, but what—"

"I had to fly to Seattle instead of Salt Lake City," she continued, and though she seemed to be speaking to him, answering him, she didn't seem entirely aware of his presence. He moved in front of her and cupped her face in his hands, lifting it so he could look her directly in the eye.

"Mac, honey…what happened?" His heart continued to beat frantically while he gazed into her unfocused eyes. "Mac," he repeated after several seconds and when she didn't respond, he finally just shouted at her. _"Mac!"_

At that, she gasped and stumbled backwards. He caught her around her waist and back and pulled her into his chest, holding her tightly as she shook and trembled. He was almost relieved when she started to sob. Words started to tumble from her mouth, but he could only make out a few of them…_cancelled…Salt Lake…Seattle…Dulles…_

_Dulles? _Did she actually mention that? Dulles in DC? Harm shifted his arms to her shoulders and pushed her back a little. "Mac? Did you just say—" Mac nodded and dissolved into a new bout of tears, and then she said something that made his blood go cold…

"H-Harm…I saw…Stur—Stur—"

"You saw who, Mac?" He started to feel a little sick.

"_I saw Sturgis."'_

* * *

_End Chapter 18_


	19. Unhook the Stars

_A/N: Chapter 19! Poor Mac. Poor Harm. Just sayin'_

**Gone**

**Chapter 19: Unhook the Stars**

_July 2__nd__, 2005_

_1617 Local_

_Rabb Farm_

_Belleville, PA_

Harm stood in the doorway of his grandmother's living room, holding a glass of water, gazing at the woman huddled on the couch. She was subtly shivering and as he crossed the room to her, he grabbed an old afghan off the back of a chair and settled it around her shoulders, then sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. She took a few tentative sips of her water before setting it down on the table in front of them, and once she was settled against him again, he kissed her hair, saying, "When you're ready, Mac." She nodded slightly, snuggling in closer, and he felt her sigh against his neck. She didn't say anything for long moments and when she suddenly seemed to relax, he realized she had fallen asleep. That didn't surprise him; she had to be exhausted after the trauma of seeing her former colleague.

Harm assumed that Sturgis had been sent on an investigation to one of the bases near Seattle, and in a cruel twist of fate, Mac had found herself in the same airplane when it was time for him to return. As far as she knew, however, Sturgis hadn't noticed her.

Before they finally made it into the house, Mac had cried in his arms for long moments until he was able to coax her inside and lead her to the couch. She hadn't wanted him to leave her, but she'd already admitted that she hadn't had anything to eat or drink other than a couple of sips of water since the flight from Kalispell to Seattle. Obviously, she _had _been traumatized by this turn of events, though a part of him thought that her reaction was out of proportion to the actual situation. He understood she didn't want anyone else to know her whereabouts, but surely she knew Sturgis would keep her secret if she asked him to. And surely Sturgis hadn't been amongst those who had treated her so badly…but then again…

Harm felt that all-to-familiar surge of guilt regarding all things Mac. During one of the few times he'd met Sturgis for a beer, he'd let the alcohol loosen his tongue and then spent more than an hour telling Sturgis all about Mac's treatment of him in Paraguay, how she'd kissed Webb, how she'd thanked Gunny and Webb and followed that up with a 'never' in place of gratitude for what Harm had done for her. Sturgis had never seemed like much of a gossip, but perhaps he'd shared those details with Bud who'd then shared them with Harriet, who'd then shared them with, well, probably everyone. Sturgis wouldn't likely have confronted Mac directly about something like this, but the man wouldn't be averse to giving Mac the cold shoulder while not offering any defense of her.

_God, what a mess, _Harm thought to himself as Mac started to stir again. She whimpered a few times, then suddenly sat up with a start, her eyes frantically darting around the room.

"Mac, honey…it's okay. You're okay," he was quick to reassure, and she slumped against him.

"I thought I was back on the plane," she sniffled, and he drew her in closer.

"Yeah?" he whispered encouragingly. She nodded against him.

"Yeah…I could hear him again…his voice is what made me look up…"

Harm nodded. Sturgis Turner's voice was certainly distinctive.

"His seat was only about four rows ahead of mine," she continued, "and I didn't dare eat or drink anything because I couldn't risk having to get up for the bathroom. Thank god I had the window seat. It made it easier to hide."

Mac shuddered and took a couple of long, deep breaths. Harm ran his fingertips up and down her arm, thinking about how miserable that flight had to have been for her. He couldn't imagine not moving during the entirety of a five to six-hour commercial flight, and that coupled with the fear of discovery…it must have been sheer hell.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he kissed her hair. He didn't know what else to say. "What happened when you finally landed in Dulles?"

"I waited until everyone else was off the plane. The flight attendants must have thought…well, I don't know what they thought…but I went straight to the bathroom and I-I threw up."

Harm grimaced. "God, Mac, I'm sorry." He gave her a few moments before asking, "What next?"

"Well," she answered. "I practically missed my flight to Harrisburg because I waited until absolutely the last minute to leave the bathroom."

_Oh, Mac…_ "I'm sorry," he said again, "but you're here now. You're safe. He didn't see you. Let's just put this all behind us. Why don't I make us an early supper and then we can just take it easy tonight, okay?"

Mac bit her lip for a moment. "Okay," she replied softly. "But, Harm…you don't need to make anything for supper. I'm not really that hungry. Maybe just some toast?"

Harm drew back and stared at her. It really had to be bad for her to still not want to eat. _Maybe she's just tired, _he thought to himself. _But she still needs to eat…_

"_Maaac…_you can't just eat toast. At least let me make you a grilled cheese sandwich or something."

Mac's lip started to curl up into a little smile. "With tomato soup?"

He grinned back at her. "Of course!"

"Well, I can't refuse an offer like that," she answered as he stood up. She held out her hand to him and he helped her off the couch, and together they made their way to the kitchen.

* * *

"_Mac…" _Harm gently cajoled. "You have to eat more than that."

Mac looked up from her plate, her sandwich only half-eaten, her soup missing only a few spoonfuls. "I'm just not…"

"I know, I know, you're not hungry…but I think you'll feel better after a few more bites." Harm noticed a subtle shift in her expression; even though she had dutifully picked up her sandwich and was now chewing slowly, he knew she was irritated. He probably should just let her be, but her near reveal to the world had left him with a sense of foreboding beyond even what it would mean if Sturgis _had _seen her. He just wanted something to be normal.

_Oh, who are you kidding? Nothing about this situation is "normal," _he admonished himself. It wasn't normal that he had to lie about his whereabouts when he went to visit Mac. It wasn't normal that she seemed to have an irrational fear of being discovered, and it _certainly_ wasn't normal that she'd run from everything she knew to become an entirely different person. Without really intending to, he heaved a huge, annoyed sigh, jumping when he heard Mac's spoon clatter against her plate.

"_What_, Harm?" she spat. He started to shake his head, to tell her he didn't mean anything by it, but she kept going. "I'm eating, dammit!" Suddenly she pulled her napkin from her lap and threw it down on the table. Before Harm could even try to say anything, she was up and out of her chair and heading quickly toward the door. Harm watched her leave, heard her footsteps on the stairs shortly thereafter, and then, after several moments, still in a daze over Mac's outburst, he got up and started clearing the table.

* * *

Forty minutes later, Harm guiltily trudged up the stairs, knowing he should have gone after Mac from the first…but he was frustrated. Intensely so. As wonderful as his trip out to Montana had been, Mac's visit here was not living up to his expectations. _Damn cancelled flights, damn Sturgis Turner, and damn everything that had come from that miserable South American country, _he groused as he pushed open the master bedroom door.

Oddly enough, he'd always slept in the master bedroom here, first as a little boy with his mother, and then as a young man visiting during his academy years. His grandmother had found it too painful to sleep in there after her husband had died, so she'd moved into a room at the end of the hall. Truthfully, he'd spent a fair amount of time in that room too; during his visits here as a child, anytime he'd awakened in the night, he'd slip from his bed to go snuggle with his Grandma Sarah. There were times in recent years when he'd honestly wished he still could.

Harm stepped into the bedroom and carelessly pushed at the door to close it, barely stopping it from slamming when he saw Mac's sleeping form on the bed. She lay atop the covers, her head pillowed on her arm, and as he moved closer, he saw the tear stains on her face. His earlier irritation drained out of him as he watched her steady, even breathing. Clearly, she was exhausted, which likely explained her behavior at dinner and the fact that she didn't even stir when he brushed her hair from cheek. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her temple, and then, though it was still quite early, left for the bathroom to ready himself for bed.

Five minutes later, he lay down beside her and pulled a soft quilt over them, and soon he had joined her in slumber.

* * *

_July 3__rd__, 2005_

_0602 Local_

_Rabb Farm_

_Belleville, PA_

Mac's eyes slowly fluttered open as brilliant rays of summer sunshine danced across her body. She felt unusually well rested and she stretched in contentment, not yet really aware of her surroundings. It was when her time-sense returned to her and she realized how long she'd been sleeping that she'd remembered the events from the night before.

_Oh, god…_

Mac rolled over onto her back and covered her face with her hands. She'd behaved horribly the night before, there was no question about it. She only hoped Harm would forgive her. _"Ughhhh," _she groaned, jumping when the bedroom door creaked open to allow Harm entrance.

"Hey, you're up, sweetie," he said pleasantly, then sat down beside her. She rolled back to her side and pushed herself up into a seated position. He reached forward and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "How are you feeling?"

She blinked at him for a moment, wondering at how he could sound so pleasant and friendly after last night's events.

"I'm fine…Harm, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"It's okay, Mac."

Mac shook her head. "No, Harm…I acted like a child. You were just trying to help, and I—"

Harm put his finger to her lips to shush her. "Mac, Mac…I know you were tired and you had just been through something traumatic."

Mac considered his words. _Traumatic? Seeing a former colleague is now traumatic to me? Being in DC is now a trauma too? I lived through Paraguay and _this_ is what is now considered a trauma in my life? Dear god, I'm pathetic…_

_How can Harm even love me like this?_

* * *

Harm watched the emotions play across Mac's face, her lovely features looking more and more troubled. "Mac?" he called to her, and she abruptly looked away. His hand was quick to reach forward to tip her chin up so she'd look at him again. "Really, it's okay. Let's just put it behind us. It's beautiful out. Why don't we take a walk around the farm? I can take you to all the places I got myself in trouble when I was a kid." He gave her a tentative smile, willing her to let the last two days go. "What do you say, Mac?"

For a moment, her eyes carried a suspicious sheen, but then she blinked and it was gone. "Okay, Harm…I'd like that."

Harm's smile widened. "Okay, then. Get your butt out of bed and get moving. The days a-wasting!"

"It's only six-ten!"

"Yeah, but you've been asleep since six-ten last night. Now, _move!"_ He stood up and pulled her from the bed, then gave her a light smack on her six. "I'll get breakfast ready. I already put your bath stuff in the bathroom, so don't worry about that."

Mac rolled her eyes, but she complied and started walking toward the door. She'd only taken a few steps, when she suddenly stopped and turned around.

"What is it, Mac?"

"Oh, I, um, forgot something…" She stepped in front of him again.

"What?"

"This," she said, then leaned up and kissed him. Before he could respond, she'd turned and skipped out of the room, leaving him in a haze of love.

* * *

_1131 Local_

_Rabb Farm_

_Belleville, PA_

Harm felt Mac's sweat-slicked body shudder around him as he slid in and out of her, knowing his own release was imminent. A few more thrusts and he was there, calling her name as he emptied himself inside of her, while she wrapped her legs high around his back and squeezed out every last drop of his essence. Once he was entirely spent, He rolled so she was half on top of him, while he gazed up at the canopy of trees above them. Their breaths were ragged and their heartbeats fast, and it was several minutes before either could talk again.

Harm recovered his power of speech first, groaning out a _'Maaac'_ before he grasped her underneath her arms and pulled her up so she was completely on top of him. His lips found hers and they kissed deeply before he pulled slightly away. "God, Mac, I love you. So much."

Mac's answer was a brilliant smile followed by an equally fervent 'I love you too, Harm.' They kissed a few more times, each touch of their lips growing more fevered. It wasn't long before Harm was ready again, his quick recovery a testament to how much he wanted the woman above him. Blue-grey eyes looked deeply into chocolate-brown ones, and with a nod she sat up, straddling him. He helped raise her up and she grasped his member, guiding it into her silken depths, her eyes now closed with pleasure. He gave her a moment to accommodate his size again, and then he was once again thrusting into her, showing her with his body how much he loved her.

He'd never get enough of this woman, and if he had his way, he would never be without her again. Tomorrow night, as fireworks exploded overhead, he would ask her to marry him.

* * *

"Soooo…when you said you got into trouble out in the woods, I'm going to assume it wasn't because you were doing what we just did," Mac giggled as they stepped through the door of the house. He had shown her all around the farm, from the hayloft he used to hide in after his mother married Frank, to the treehouse his grandmother had hired Bob Miller's father to make for him, the creek where he used to fish, and finally the tree he'd encouraged Bob's little brother to climb, coaxing him to go higher and higher until the little boy was so high he was too terrified to come down. Mr. Miller had managed to get the kid down, then had given Harm a stern talking to. His grandmother had been fairly mortified, and he spent the next days of his visit there mucking out first his grandmother's horse stalls, and then the Millers', and then the Smiths', the Bells' and finally the Johnsons'. He could have sworn he still smelled like horse manure when he started junior high in La Jolla. Harm hadn't yet told Mac that story; they'd started kissing under that infamous tree and that had rapidly progressed to something else.

"Ah, no…not quite," he grinned. He proceeded to tell her the tale of "Georgie Miller and the Tree," having her laughing uproariously by the time he got to his fifth horse barn.

"You know, Mac…I don't think Georgie has ever forgiven me," he lamented, which earned him another laugh.

"Probably because you still call him Georgie," she reasoned.

"Ya think? I guess we could ask him tomorrow. He should be there with his wife and their six…or is it seven? kids."

"That should be interesting…and if he gets too uppity, you can always respond by telling him you just got laid under that tree."

"_Maaac!" _he burst out. Mac was giggling hard now, and Harm couldn't stop himself from joining her. "Now that would be just too cruel. Let's just say his wife is no Sarah MacKenzie…"

Harm expected Mac to either laugh or smack him for implying that George Miller's wife was homely. Instead, her expression immediately sobered. "Mac?"

She looked up into his eyes, looking terribly sad and bereft.

"I'm no Sarah MacKenzie, either," she whispered, then brushed past him and went up the stairs.

"Dammit," Harm muttered under his breath, then headed up after her.

Things had been going so well…

* * *

_July 4__th__, 2005_

_1959 Local_

_Rabb Farm_

_Belleville, PA_

Mac sat on the back-porch swing, waiting for Harm to gather up blankets and water bottles so they could climb the hill behind the house. The view of the town fireworks display was particularly stunning from there, he'd told her, and she was looking forward to it.

The day had been lovely, not too hot, and the town festival had been fun. She had indeed met Georgie Miller and he was actually very friendly. His wife was rather plain, but she was genuinely sweet and had a smile that made her beautiful. After they'd left them to their children (there were actually eight of them), Mac had smacked his shoulder and given him a little hell for his inaccurate description of George and Tessa Miller. Harm had shrugged but then he'd grown sheepish, telling her that Tessa had shot him down once upon a time.

"So that smile _doesn't _get you whatever you want, huh?" she'd snickered, and he'd rolled his eyes before putting his arm around her and pulling her close.

"It got me you," he said simply.

"Hey!" she cried almost indignantly. "What did I tell you the day I met you about that smile?"

He'd turned the full wattage of his flyboy grin on her. "Yeah," he shrugged. "But you didn't mean it."

Mac had wanted to remain stern with him, but that grin really had always caused her melt. "Okay, fine…but don't let that go to your head."

"Too late," he'd laughed before kissing her soundly right there in the middle of the street. Then he'd taken her by the hand and led her off to find cotton candy and popcorn.

Mac had been amazed at how many people in the small town of Belleville knew and remembered Harm. She could tell he loved it here and that the love was returned. Joshua and Sarah Rabb's grandson would always have a home here.

_Unlike me_, she thought to herself. Being with Harm had always felt like home to her, as long as they remained in their little bubble. The problem was that Harm didn't deserve to be kept in a bubble. He had a life outside of her…a life she could never be a part of. Not anymore. She'd ruined that with her actions in Paraguay, and she knew she could never set foot in DC again. She hadn't told Harm this yet, but she didn't think she could even come back to the farm. It was too close to DC, and if Sturgis Turner, with all the flights in the world and all the people the world, could still end up on an airplane with her, she didn't think she could leave Montana again. She still hated herself for her reaction to the events of the last few days, but knowing it was ridiculous still didn't make her feelings about it any less painful.

She really should let Harm go…

Mac sat up straighter with a gasp. The thought that she should give Harm up had flown into her mind completely unbidden. _No! I can't do that. I love him!_

_But none of this is fair to him! _she argued with herself. Harm had a place in this world. He was a Commander in the Navy. A JAG officer. A Navy pilot. He had a name, and what did she have?

_Nothing. You have nothing!_

_That isn't true! I have a life in Montana. I have Mary and Dan and Nicodemus. I have a job that I truly do love!_

_But you don't have a name._

_Yes, I do! Samantha O'Hara! _

_That's a name that doesn't exist outside of your little bubble. And you definitely aren't Sarah MacKenzie anymore. You're nobody. Bud and Harriet named their baby after a nobody…_

_You're a nobody…_

"Shut up!"

"Mac?"

Mac hadn't realized she'd said that out loud and she blushed with embarrassment. "Uh, nothing, Harm." She stood up from the swing. "I suppose we should get up there," she said, motioning up the hill. "They're probably about ready to start." She relieved Harm of one of the blankets and started down the steps.

"Hey, Mac?"

She turned around, seeing the concern in his eyes despite the darkening skies. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah…I'm—I'm fine, Harm." She attempted a smile, which he tentatively returned. "Shall we?" she asked.

"Yeah, let's go. The fireworks are always really, um, beautiful."

"Okay, Harm," she answered, and together, they climbed up the hill.

* * *

Brilliant showers of light exploded overhead, reds, greens, blues, golds…the display was truly spectacular, but they were nothing compared to the spectacular beauty of the woman beside him. The fireworks illuminated her olive skin, and when she turned toward him, having likely felt his eyes on him, her lips curved up into a gentle smile.

"What," she whispered, as another starburst of color fell from the sky.

"You're so beautiful, Mac."

Her smile widened slightly. "So are you."

"Stand up."

Her expression morphed into one of confusion.

"Please, Mac." He stood up and held out his hand to her.

Still looking confused and just a bit apprehensive, she pushed herself off the ground and allowed him to pull her up.

Harm gazed at her a moment, then pulled out the little blue velvet box that had been burning a hole in his pocket for the last several hours. He heard Mac gasp as he lowered himself down on one knee and removed the ring from its cushioned nest.

"Mac," he started, swallowing against the lump that had formed in his throat. "We've been through so much together, we've come close to crossing the line from friendship to more too many times, only to let everything slip through our fingers. After Paraguay, I was an angry, bitter man, but one night I realized that I still loved you, would always love you, only to find out you had disappeared. Finding you again was the most wonderful day of my life, even if our first meeting didn't go as I'd hoped. Mac, I never want to be without you again. Will you marry me?"

He stared up at her hopefully, praying the tears coming from her eyes were tears of happiness, but the longer he waited for her to answer, the more he felt his happiness slipping away. When she finally opened her mouth, he had the sudden urge to stand up and cover it with his hand to stop her from saying what he knew she was about to.

"Oh, Harm…"

Harm slowly stood. "Mac, _please…"_ he begged.

"Oh, Harm," she said again. "I-I can't."

"No…"

"I'm so sorry, Harm, but…but this is never going to work. I'm s-sorry." She was sobbing now and despite his broken heart he wanted to pull her into his arms and comfort her, but she didn't let him. She pulled away and turned on her heel, and then she was running down the hill toward the house.

Harm's vision blurred as he watched her retreating forms. _No, NO! It can't end like this. Not now…_

Harm took off after Mac in a sprint, while fireworks, now sounding more like bombs exploding around him, burst overhead.

* * *

_End Chapter 19_


	20. Hole in My Heart

_A/N: 20! Be kind to Mac. She's hurting. Once again, poor Mac. Poor Harm. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 20: Hole in My Heart**

_July 4__th__, 2005_

_2138 Local_

_Rabb Farm_

_Belleville, PA_

Harm caught up with Mac before she'd reached the back porch. He grabbed her arm and turned her to face him; tears were coursing down her cheeks and he was breathing heavily.

"Mac, baby, let's talk about this. We don't have to get married…"

Mac ripped her arm from his grasp. "You don't get it. We should have thought this through before we let it get this far. You have a life in DC, and I will never,_ ever, _go back there and I can't ask you to leave the Navy and your friends behind, because that's what it would take to be together!"

"Mac, honey…no, I don't want to give up the navy again, but can't we—"

"No! We _can't! _Talking about this isn't going to help. There's nothing to talk about. You have your life and I have mine, and they can never coexist. I should have known this wouldn't work…but I-I loved you too much. It was wrong and selfish of me to let you in like that. I have to let you go!"

Harm stared at her agape. He couldn't think of a response fast enough, and Mac went for the back door. "Mac!" he finally shouted when her foot hit the first step. "Just stop, Mac. You don't mean that!"

"Yes, I do, Harm! I will _never _go back there, no matter how much I love you. It would be too…too…I just can't!"

Harm's hurt was morphing into anger. She was being irrational. This wasn't the together marine he'd met so many years ago. Leaving like she had…well, that was a terrible thing to do to him, to everyone at JAG. And she'd never told him why she had, not really, and he decided then and there that that was going to change.

He reached out for her again and grabbed her by both upper arms. "But _why_ can't you, Mac?" he nearly shouted at her.

"I told you," she shouted back. "I c-couldn't st-stay, not after…" She cut herself off and then stared down at the ground.

"That's not good enough, Mac. If you are going to stand there and break my heart, you could at least tell me what they did to you." He shook her a bit, then let her go to pace. She at least stayed where she was.

He made a couple of passes by her before he stopped in front of her again. "Tell me, dammit. Tell what horrible thing you think they did to you!"

Mac's features took on a stubborn cast and she crossed her arms over her chest as she shook her head.

Harm's anger only increased as he stared down at her. Finally, he threw up his hands. "You know what? I think you got your feelings hurt when they didn't throw you a big party when you got back. I think you were jealous when they didn't fawn all over you and instead felt bad that I'd lost my job! I think—"

"_Stop it!" _She suddenly shouted. "You don't know anything! You don't—"

"Because you've never told me! They admitted to me that they didn't treat you well—and you make it sound as if they took you to prom just to pour pig's blood on you! So, they weren't overly friendly. They would have gotten over it! But you had to run away like a spoiled brat who didn't get her way!"

He turned away from her then and took a few steps, trying to get his hurt-fueled anger under control. The fireworks continued to explode overhead but there by the house he couldn't see them; he could only hear them, and for all he knew the pops and crackles were the sound of his heart breaking. The current volley of fireworks went on for a couple of minutes and he knew the finale had been reached. Neither of them tried to speak, and when it was finally over, they were plunged into absolute silence. He knew she was still behind him; he could still feel her presence and he wondered why she hadn't taken the opportunity to run. A few more seconds went by and Harm was just about to start in on another bitter tirade when her voice, low and cold, reached his ears. It was almost frightening, and it was with reluctance that he slowly turned around.

"Is that what you think?"

Even in the dim light of the porch, Harm could tell Mac had gone absolutely white. He'd never seen her look that way, and he suddenly felt bile rise up in his throat. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to answer her, but nothing came out.

"Is _that_ what you think, Harm? That they were just _unfriendly?" _

"Mac, I—"

"Okay, Harm…I'll tell you what happened…"

"I want you t—"

"Well…let's see…you already know what went on in Paraguay. You know I still have nightmares…"

Harm gulped and nodded.

"Well, those nightmares are _nothing _compared to the nightmares I had when we first got back. I told you how I don't have totally clear memories after you showed up…I didn't tell you how I'm missing big chunks of time from my first couple of weeks back at JAG…I guess I blacked out a few times. The only absolutely clear things I remember were the admiral yelling at you, you leaving, and then the calls…the ones you didn't answer. Yes, I wanted to apologize to you, but I was also terrified. I couldn't talk to the admiral; he'd already written me off, I tried to talk to Clay, but he was in no condition to help me, so I called you…and you _never answered_.

"Obviously I couldn't talk to Bud and Harriet about all of _that, _so I just bottled it up inside and eventually the blackouts went away…but not the nightmares. I—"

"Mac, what about counseling?" Harm asked, though he knew that wouldn't have been Mac's first choice. She let out a harsh, bitter bark of laughter.

"You know, I actually thought about it…but who would I talk to? I wasn't actually CIA, so that was out, and everything was classified so private counseling was out—and I wasn't about to have that on my record at JAG so no Bethesda either. Finally, I just had to bury it and move on with my life…but it was so hard…my best friend was gone, and it was my fault. Even if I hadn't been able to remember _that, _your friends would have reminded me.

"There were mornings after particularly bad nights that I just wanted a kind word from _someone._ But you know, no one would talk to me. Coates was damned near insubordinate; Harriet could have written the book on being snide. And then… They. Wouldn't. Stop. Staring! And whispering. I'd walk into a room and everything would go silent…I started staying in my office all day. If I needed something from the law library, I'd wait until after hours. If I needed an older file, I would get it myself when I was sure no one would be in the file room. Harriet would ask people to go to lunch with her right in front of me, but she wouldn't even look at me, much less ask me too. Sturgis just ignored me…and Bud…well, what could he do? Harriet was his wife and you were his mentor. Harm, I had no one…_no one!_ I knew it was my fault you were gone, but I couldn't understand why they were so mean to me. I'd been through something awful and they had to know that…and they just…just abandoned me. Like garbage. Like my mother did. Like my father did with his alcohol. Like Uncle Matt did when he went to prison.

"So, no, Harm…they weren't just 'unfriendly.' My own family was such a nightmare, but I thought I'd found a new family at JAG. I had a father, brother, and sister…and you. But I was nothing to them…it got so uncomfortable…somehow, they found out I'd never thanked you…that must have been the last straw…Harriet got more…_vocal_ in her dislike of me. Harm…I couldn't be there anymore. I thought about asking for a transfer, but I was sure my reputation would have proceeded me.

"I honestly thought about suicide, Harm. If I didn't leave when I did…I think…I think, Harm, I _know_ I would have.

"I can't ever go back there. I don't want to ever see them again. _Ever. _If that makes me a spoiled child, so be it. I don't care. I'd just gone through one of the darkest moments in my life, and they abandoned me."

Mac laughed bitterly once again. "They abandoned me…just like everyone else has in my life. No more, Harm. No more."

With that Mac turned on her heal and climbed the stairs to the back door. Harm heard the door open and shut before he moved to sit himself down on the porch swing and buried his face in his hands. There was a wetness on his cheeks, and he realized he'd been crying. So many emotions were rolling through him; guilt for telling Sturgis about Mac's lack of immediate gratitude, anger toward the team at JAG that had made Mac feel so unwelcome, anger toward himself for not calling her back and for treating her so deplorably the last time he saw her before she'd left.

Much of what Mac had revealed was what he already knew or suspected, but he'd had no idea she'd felt so abandoned. In retrospect, he should have realized on his own that she felt that way, and he felt another intense surge of anger toward his colleagues. How could they do that to her? To him? They'd chased away the woman he loved, and now he might lose her again.

_Don't forget your role in it, Hammer, _he admonished himself. _Dammit, I know that, _he answered himself. _But why did they take everything out on her? Why didn't they see she was in pain? _

_You know the answer to that question. _

Mac would have done her best to be stoic, ever the strong marine. Obviously, that came with a price; when she no longer had to be strong, when she'd found a safe place to land in Montana, she didn't have to hold it together anymore. Distance hadn't really allowed her to gain any perspective either; he couldn't really blame her for leaving…but the fear…the panic she felt at the idea of being discovered…it had grown into something bigger than both of them. Mac was terrified of being left again, and now she was leaving him.

_Wait…what?_

"Oh my god," Harm said aloud. "She's leaving!" Harm was out of the swing like a shot and slammed his way into the house. He hadn't been out there alone all that that long, but that didn't mean that Mac hadn't had time to pack up all her things already.

Harm made it to the living room just as Mac was opening the front door. She had her bag slung over her shoulder, her keys in her hand, and it was obviously she was trying to make her escape.

"_Mac!" _He shouted after her and she whipped around, her eyes haunted and full of regret. "You're just going to leave? Just like that?" His voice cracked as more tears formed in his eyes.

"I have to, Harm," she whispered broken-heartedly.

"No, you don't, Mac," he pleaded.

"Harm, under the circumstances, don't you think it would be better if I left now? We're just prolonging the inevitable," she replied, eyes dry but red-rimmed. "It'll just hurt more if I stay."

"_Maaac, _you're hurting me now by leaving. Please, Mac. I love you, and I know you love me. We can make this work. I know it."

Mac shook her head. "No, we can't, Harm. And you know the reason." Harm noticed that she'd at least shut the door. Now if he could just get her to set her bag down…

Harm took a careful step forward. "Mac, baby…I only know that I love you. If I could go back in time and change everything about Paraguay, I would, but I can't. If I could go back to Sydney or to whatever would have been the right time and say the right words, I would. You know that. Please. Don't walk out on us. We don't have to get married. We _never _have to get married if you don't want to."

Mac did start crying then. She also dropped her bag and took a step toward him herself. "Harm, I would love nothing more than to be your wife, but—"

"No buts, Mac. You love me, I love you, and—"

Mac was suddenly right in front of him. Her hands came up to cup his cheeks and she forced him to look her in the eye. "Stop it, Harm. You know as much as I do that this will never work. I don't think I'll ever be able to come this way again, not after what happened with Sturgis…I know that makes me weak and it's stupid…and I can't ask you to keep flying to Montana and you deserve someone who you can see more than once a month. I won't ask you to give up the Navy again, not for me…I don't deserve it…"

Harm shook his head, his face still cradled in her hands. "No, Mac…you deserve so much more than even that…you deserve more than what your parents gave you, what JAG gave you, and what I've given you. You deserve, well, you deserve _everything." _

Mac dropped her hands and stepped away from him. "No. No, I don't, Harm."

She was slipping away from him again. No matter what he said, no matter what he did, she was going to leave.

"Mac, _please…"_ he begged.

"I'm sorry, Harm. You'll never know how much. I'll always love you, but you'll be better off without me." She took another step back.

"I'm miserable without you, Mac."

"I don't believe that. Goodbye, Harm."

"Mac, baby…it's late. Just…just stay the night. If you must leave, leave tomorrow. It's dark out…"

"I-I shouldn't…" She picked up her bag again, but suddenly he knew her resolve was weakening. He closed the distance between them and took the bag from her.

"Stay. Stay tonight. With me," he entreated, this time cupping _her _cheeks in his big hands, threading his fingers through her hair to pull her closer. "Just stay, baby." He kissed her forehead, then each eye and then her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears on his lips.

"N-No, H-Harm," she whispered, even as she leaned up and kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Just tonight…just one more night…" His brushed his lips over hers and drew back a little. "Just one more night…"

"I-I can't," she breathed, following his lips much like he did hers the night of her engagement party. They kissed fully them, their tongues entering each other's mouth to tangle as the kiss grew more passionate.

"Please, Mac…please…" he whispered once more.

"Okay…"

* * *

_July 5__th__, 2005_

_0532 Local _

_Rabb Farm_

_Belleville, PA_

The two of them had made love furiously throughout the night, each wanting to take some of the other with them. Harm had brought her to new heights of ecstasy with each bout of lovemaking, but it was so terribly sad too. She was leaving him.

Leaving _Harm…_

She didn't know if she could do it.

_You have too. _

It really wasn't fair to make him live like this.

Mac slipped out of his arms and out of his bed, trying desperately to maintain her composure. She searched the floor for her clothing from the night before, glancing over at Harm after she was once again fully dressed, noting with relief that he was still sleeping. She hated leaving him like this, but it needed to be done and it would be so much easier if she could just sneak out…

"So, you're just going to sneak out, just like that?" His voice was low and rough, but he didn't sound angry. He sounded just as devastated as she felt.

"I-I thought it would be easier…"

"Mac, honey, nothing will ever make this easier. C'mere." He sat up and held out his arms to her.

"I-I shouldn't, Harm…after what…what happened last night…"

Harm sighed. "Mac, I promise I'll let you go…I just want to hold you one last time."

_One last time…_The words cut her to the bone. Could she really do this?

_Yes, because you have to._

Slowly, Mac approached the bed and sat down next to Harm. His long arms went about her and he pulled her tightly to his chest. "I love you, Mac. Always and forever."

"And I'll always love you, Harm."

"I-I'll call," he said, obviously near tears.

Mac shook her head against him. "No…don't…not…not right away…it would be too painful…"

Harm nodded and pushed her away from him slightly. "Okay, Mac…we'll do this your way…but if you ever, _ever, _need anything, call me, and I'll be there."

Mac couldn't stop herself from pressing her lips to his for a final kiss. "I know you will, Harm." It killed her to know she wouldn't be able to do the same for him. She pulled out of his arms and stood up to make her way to the door. She needed to leave, now, before she lost all resolve. She was almost out when she heard Harm call her name behind her.

"I love you," he said simply, giving her the saddest approximation of his flyboy grin. She gave him her own weak smile.

"I love you too."

And with that, she left. She half expected him to follow her again, and when he didn't, her heart completely shattered.

_It's what you wanted, _she told herself. _Now, go. Let him go._

Mac slid into her car, resolving to hold back her tears until she made it back to Montana.

She only made it to the end of the driveway…and the tears continued to fall all the way to Harrisburg, through each flight and layover, until she finally found herself on Mary's doorstep, sobbing in the older woman's arms.

* * *

_End Chapter 20_


	21. Brimstone and Fire

_A/N: Chappie 21! Woohoo!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 21: Brimstone and Fire**

_July 2005_

_1654 Local_

_JAG Headquarters _

_Falls Church, VA_

If any word could describe Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr, it would be 'surly.'

Since he'd returned from the farm two weeks ago, he'd rarely smiled, spoke mostly in monosyllables when it came to non-work-related chatter, and he certainly didn't socialize with his coworkers. He was still utterly heartbroken about the situation with Mac, and if he was honest with himself, he was utterly furious with his JAG colleagues. That fury was growing by the minute.

He remained professional, basically polite, but it was surely obvious that Harm wasn't himself.

In the evenings, Harm spent his time trying to figure out what to do about Mac. Though he hadn't fought her at the time, he had no intention of letting her go. He was torn; he'd messed up in Paraguay by not fighting her never, and now he seemed to be doing the same thing.

The real truth was he'd let her leave because he could see she actually thought it was the right thing to do. He'd give her some time while he tried to work things out; he had his twenty and was perfectly willing to retire to be with Mac, but he sensed she wouldn't take his "sacrifice" well. She still felt intense guilt about his resignation to go find her in Paraguay, so he'd have to ease her into that. He was also very conscious of the fact that retiring now would likely go over like a lead balloon here at JAG, and he very much wanted to leave on good terms.

Of course, given his current attitude, maybe they'd all be on better terms if he left now rather than later…

Harm ran a frustrated hand over his face. He was tired, having slept poorly the last two weeks, and it had become difficult not to outright snap at people of late. It was also getting nearly impossible to ignore the urge to call Mac, though he'd agreed not to for a while. Harm looked up at the clock, noting it was only five more minutes to official quitting time. He had a report or two that he could finish up, but as he'd only managed to write two words in the last thirty minutes, he decided he'd call it a night, or in actuality, a week. _Just so you can go home and brood…_

Cursing under his breath, Harm gathered up the files he'd need to finish over the weekend and shoved them in his briefcase. He made sure he was logged off his computer, then grabbed his cover off the top of his filing cabinet. He rather roughly yanked open his office door, only to stop short when he noted Bud standing there, fist poised to knock. Pushing down a surge of annoyance; after all, from what Harm knew, Bud hadn't been one of the chief offenders in the Mac saga, he gave him a semblance of a smile. "Can I help you, Bud?"

Bud looked decidedly uncomfortable and Harm felt a flash of guilt. He really should try to make more of an effort to be cordial to the father of his godson, but he wasn't sure he had it in him.

To Bud's credit, he didn't stumble over his words as he was often wont to do, offering Harm a simple, straightforward invitation for a barbeque at the Roberts' house this coming Sunday. Harm was about to refuse, but then Bud rather shyly mentioned that little AJ had been asking about him and really missed him. He sensed Bud was being sincere, and he could never let down his little godson. Keeping his reluctance hidden, Harm agreed to come, feeling ever more guilty about his attitude when Bud burst out in a huge grin and thanked him profusely for accepting his invitation.

"Do you need me to bring anything?" Harm asked politely and Bud shrugged.

"Nah, just yourself…and probably all the stamina you have as I'm sure AJ won't leave you alone."

Harm chuckled. "No problem, Bud. I miss the little guy. Jimmy too. I'll see you on Sunday. Have a good night."

"You too, sir." At that, Bud turned and headed back toward his office. Harm saw that Harriet was waiting for her husband there, so he quickly locked up his office and decided to take the stairs. He didn't particularly want to be cornered in the elevator by Harriet or any of their other colleagues; Sturgis looked like he was about to be leaving too.

Once Harm made it back to his loft, he quickly showered and changed into boxer shorts and a t-shirt. July in DC was just as hot as usual, and he was looking forward to grabbing a cold beer out of the fridge. He decided he'd just have a salad for supper; he didn't feel like anything warmer or more substantial.

As he passed his answering machine, he saw it blinking, indicating a message awaited him. His heart sped up a bit; every time he saw he had a message, no matter how unlikely it was that it would happen, he prayed it would be Mac. He pressed the button…

There was a message from Georgetown Self-Storage, where he'd found Mac's things, offering him a deal if he paid up front for a year, one from the dry cleaners telling him his uniforms were ready, and then yet another message that wasn't Mac…but it was the next best thing…

_Hello, Harm…this is Mary. I said I'd call you in a couple of weeks…even though I feel like I'm betraying Sam…she's okay, but sad. Oh, who am I kidding, she's more than sad, but I don't think she's ready to hear from you yet. I'm sorry. Dan and I are checking on her and having her over as much as she'll allow. I'd better go now—take care, and I hope you two can work it out…"_

Harm closed his eyes and pushed the delete button. He'd felt guilty doing it, but he had to at least know if Mac was okay. He'd called Mary shortly after he returned to DC and said he'd let Mac give her the details, but that currently they were on hold. He made sure Mary understood it hadn't been anything either of them had done and practically begged her to give him updates on Mac, and she'd reluctantly agreed to call him in a week or two.

Blinking back a few tears, telling himself she was at least being taken care of, Harm sat on the couch with his salad, downing his beer in only a few swallows.

* * *

_1148 Local_

_Roberts' Residence_

_Reston, VA_

"Hey, Bud, Sturgis," Harm greeted his host as he came through the back gate. Bud and Sturgis were at the grill and Bud happily returned the greeting. Sturgis merely nodded, and Harm wondered briefly who put the stick up the man's six this time. They definitely weren't as close at JAG as they had been at the academy, and the chasm had been widening over the last several months. Harm was debating on whether or not to attempt conversation with the other men when a joyous shout from across the yard reached his ears.

"Uncle Harm! Uncle Harm!" Little AJ came barreling toward him and Harm caught the boy up in his arms with a laugh.

"Hiya, Buddy!" he crowed while AJ squirmed to get down. As soon as Harm had him back on the ground, the little boy grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward what appeared to be a new playset.

"Uncle Harm! Come see my new slide!" Harm allowed the boy to pull him toward the newly erected equipment, flashing his two colleagues at the grill a 'what can I do' smile.

After a half-hour or so of pushing AJ on the swings, watching him go down the slide and the attached fireman's pole, and seeing Petty Officer Coates arrive with her boyfriend, lunch was served. Harm noticed a couple of people he didn't recognize; he figured they were neighbors that had grown friendly with the Roberts'. There was a couple who had twin boys a little older than AJ and they were currently sitting with the boy at the kids' table. Jimmy was in a little portable highchair, not quite ready to sit with the other children, and the adults were sitting in a half circle of lawn chairs. Harm found himself maneuvered into a chair next to an attractive blond.

"Harm? I'd like you to meet Vivienne Daily. She's a political columnist at the _Times_. Viv? This is Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. He works with us at JAG." Harriet made the introductions and Harm politely shook the other woman's hand. Vivienne was fairly tall, even a little taller than Mac, had intelligent green eyes and a perfect smile complete with perfect white teeth. Harm sensed she was actually a nice person, but something about this meeting and seating arrangement was sending danger signals to him. _What is Harriet trying to pull?_

Harm, now feeling decidedly uncomfortable, sat down next to Vivienne and started to eat. He felt the woman's eyes on him from time to time and he really did want to be friendly and polite, but he was getting the sense that he shouldn't encourage her. They made some small talk, spoke about the heat of the summer in DC, learned that she was single with a teenaged daughter that baby-sat for AJ and Jimmy periodically. Harriet had met her at a neighborhood barbeque the previous summer and the women had become friendly.

Less than fifteen minutes into their conversation, Harm was convinced this was a setup. Ms. Daily, who'd told him right away to call her Viv, made sure to ask questions designed to get Harm to open up to her and offered up many of her personal details as well. Harm kept his answers brief and impersonal; Vivienne was by no means undesirable, but Harm had no intention of entertaining any other woman than Mac.

Harm was growing increasingly irritated. He certainly hadn't come here to be ambushed by a matchmaking Harriet and despite his enjoyment as he played with little AJ, he heartily regretted coming here. He was about to excuse himself when Viv forced his hand.

"Harm," she opened. "Harriet tells me you aren't seeing anyone. I've really enjoyed talking to you and I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me sometime?" She batted her full eyelashes at him, and Harm wanted to snort in disgust. There was nothing wrong with Vivienne; she was obviously intelligent, was involved in many charities, was genuinely friendly, and if Bud and Harriet trusted her daughter with their children, she must be a good mother as well.

Harm, however, wanted nothing to do with her. He loved Mac, and fully intended to marry her even if currently Mac was of the impression that they couldn't work. Harm sighed. Time to let Vivienne down…

"Viv, you seem like a lovely person and at any other time, I'd take you up on that offer, but I just got out of a serious relationship and I'm in no place to start dating. I'm sorry."

A flash of disappointment went through her green eyes, but Vivienne smiled gently. "I'm sorry to hear that, Harm. If you ever change your mind, Harriet knows how to find me."

_Yes, I'll bet she does…_

Harm apologized again but Vivienne waved it away. She did, however, take her leave shortly thereafter, leaving Harm to sulk while sounds of the children playing echoed around the yard.

While Harm sat silently brooding, all the resentment and anger he felt toward his JAG colleagues began to coalesce in one hot ball of rage. He knew he'd better leave before he said something he'd regret. He stood up, intending to say goodbye to AJ, but saw the little boy greeting the admiral who had just come into the yard. Soon the little boy was showing big AJ his playset, so Harm turned to let Bud know he had to leave. Blocking his path, however, was an irritated-looking Harriet.

"Harm? Why did you tell Viv you'd just got out of a relationship?"

Harm only shrugged, not trusting himself to say anything for fear it would come out in angry rant.

Harriet was having none of it. "Harm?" she asked again, her growing ire evident in her voice.

Harm swallowed a few times. "I, uh, wanted to let her down easy…"

"So you lied."

Harm shrugged again. "If you want to look at it that way."

Harriet laid a hand on his arm and he resisted the urge to yank it away from her grasp. "Harm, it's been two years. You need to move on."

"Move on from what, exactly?" he asked coldly, and a nervous glint formed in Harriet's eyes. She prodded on, however, and Harm clenched his fists in an effort to maintain control. He'd never lash out physically of course, but he knew he was about to erupt in a vicious rant. He really, really didn't want to do that. Not here.

"Mac, of course. Harm, it's time to accept the fact that she's gone…that she's de—"

"Don't say that," Harm replied, his tone this side of dangerous now, and he could feel everyone else's eyes on him as well.

"Fine," she said, wide-eyed. "But she's not coming back, and you need to—"

"What I need, Harriet," he spat, "is for you to stop meddling. Maybe if you and everyone else had showed her an ounce of kindness after she got back from Paraguay, she wouldn't be gone now!"

Harm was peripherally aware that Sturgis, Bud, and now the admiral, fresh from pushing AJ and his little friends on the swings, had stepped closer to him and Harriet.

Harriet gasped, her hand covering her mouth as her skin paled. Her blue eyes filled with tears, but Harm wasn't done yet. Not with her, not with any of them.

"She needed you, and you abandoned her. You all admitted it, and I'll never forgive that. What happened in Paraguay wasn't her fault. I was an ass, but she'd damn near been tortured. She had to listen to Webb—"

The admiral came up to his side and gripped his arm. "Son…" He knew the admiral was reminding him of the classified nature of that damnable mission, and Harm tried to rein it in, but he still ripped his arm out from under the other man's hand.

"No, sir…you abandoned her too. You know what I'm talking about. I know you made her feel like a pariah. You were all relieved when she finally resigned, weren't you. Until you got the note for AJ. But it wasn't sadness over her departure, was it. It was guilt. None of you truly cared for her. If you had, you never would have done the things to her that you did!"

Harm was embarrassed to feel his eyes burning with unshed tears, but he was on a roll. He knew he had engaged in similar behavior and that he had his own part in Mac's disappearance, but if she'd had the support of their supposed friends, she would still be at JAG. He would have apologized, they would have mended their friendship, and who knows, maybe they'd be married by now. Instead, all he had was the memory of the love of a traumatized woman, a woman more devastated by preceding events than he could even fathom. His ring wasn't on her finger, though he'd sneakily slipped it into her bag their last night together during a brief moment of slumber on her part. There had been a letter stating his intentions wrapped around it, and he prayed she'd at least read it.

"Sir—" Bud's voice broke into his thoughts and he turned on the younger man as well.

"And you, Bud…how could you? She was your mentor, the one you went to with your grades…why didn't you stop what was happening?"

Bud hung his head, but said nothing further. Harm turned away in disgust, disappointed beyond measure with the young man he and Mac had nurtured, helping become the lawyer he was today.

"And Sturgis…why did you tell everyone about her not thanking me? Yes, I was angry about that, but you couldn't have kept that to yourself? Surely you had to know how terrible things were down there. I was an angry wreck! I was obviously not thinking clearly, and yet you gave everyone else even more ammo against her."

Harm looked around him, his chest heaving with the intensity of his emotions. Harriet was crying in Bud's arms, Bud was blushing with what appeared to be guilt, Sturgis' expression was stony, and the admiral…his glare would have melted a lesser man…or at least a man who actually care at the moment what happened to him. Coates stood in the background, head hung in shame. He knew she was recalling all of her acts of near-insubordination, and he was sure she knew that Mac could have completely called her on it, had her reprimanded, but she didn't. Mac didn't fight back at any of them, convinced that she was entirely at fault.

"I refuse to believe that she killed herself…but if she did, it's on your heads. _Yours!_ No one else's."

The admiral stepped forward then, outwardly calm, but the hands he clamped around his chief of staff's arms dug in painfully. "It's time to go, Harm. Go home. Go calm down."

Harm strained against his CO's hold, but the older man's grip only tightened. "Go, Harm. Now." His words were said in a soft, infuriated hiss, and Harm finally regained enough sense to see danger in the older man's eyes. He finally nodded his head, though the admiral held on to him a few moments longer. Once he was let go, Harm strode silently away, not looking back at any of them. He drove home almost blindly, falling onto his bed as soon as he'd made it in his apartment. He finally gave in to all the emotions swirling around him since Mac had left his grandmother's house, crying himself to sleep. _Like a girl, _he thought as he began to drift off, but he didn't give a damn.

* * *

_0801 Local_

_JAG Headquarters_

_Falls Church, VA_

To say it was awkward at JAG the next week was a gross understatement. Harm stayed in his office most of the time, while his colleagues watched him warily each time he emerged. He knew he should apologize to them all, but his anger hadn't lessened in the least. The mood at JAG was probably as low as it had been since before his return, and the admiral was clearly irritated by it all.

Harm threw himself into his work, noting that Admiral Chegwidden hadn't assigned him any cases of worth this week. He supposed he was being punished for his backyard rant, but he vowed he'd make every brief, will, report detailed and perfect just to spite him.

It was now Friday morning, almost a week since the ill-fated barbeque, and tensions had not eased in the least. If anything, they'd grown thicker, and Harm was beginning to dread coming to JAG. He knew he could march into the admiral's office and inform of his intention to retire, but he didn't want to give the man the satisfaction. He'd bide his time just a little bit more…

Fifteen minutes later, a knock came at his door. Rolling his eyes, he tossed off a belligerent 'enter!" and waited for the door to open. It was Coates, informing him the admiral wanted to see him.

"I'll be there in five, Petty Officer."

Coates audibly gulped. "He said _now, _sir."

"Well," he said sarcastically, "I'd guess I'd better go to him then." He got up and followed the petty officer out of the room.

* * *

"I'm sending you away, Harm."

Harm gaped at the admiral's first words since he'd ordered him at ease. This did not sound good.

"Sit down, Commander," the admiral continued, and Harm dutifully sat, though he was ramrod straight at the edge of the chair.

The admiral pulled off his reading glasses and stared at Harm for long moments while Harm resisted the urge to squirm. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"Where to, Admiral?"

"To the _Seahawk_."

"Why, sir?"

Admiral Chegwidden sighed heavily. "Because you need to get away. I had hoped you'd given up your obsession, but it's clear you haven't. I think everyone, you most of all, needs some space."

Harm's heart sank. "Sir, I know my behavior at the Roberts' was inappropriate, but I assure you, I can behave professionally here at JAG."

The admiral glared at him. "I'm sure you can. You just aren't."

"Sir!" Harm protested, though he knew the older man was correct, at least in part.

"Save it, Harm." Harm was surprised that the admiral had used his name rather than his rank. He was further surprised when the admiral stood and came around his desk to sit tiredly in the chair next to him.

"As inappropriate as your behavior was and has been of late, I'm letting it go given you weren't entirely incorrect in your assessments of the situation. Therefore, I'm only sending you to sea for a while. You'll be switching places with the JAG currently serving there. He's a good man; time at headquarters is probably overdue. Besides, I'm sure you'll get to fly a bit as well."

Harm couldn't deny that the assignment sounded rather appealing, but he wondered what effect it would have on his career or his plans to retired in the nearer future.

"How long, sir?"

"As long as I deem necessary, Commander!" the admiral snapped, but then sighed again. "At least two months. I need to make Lieutenant Commander Jellison's time here worthwhile, and I think you need the time."

Harm thought about it for a while. The admiral was likely right, and it wasn't like he was being given a choice. "When do I report?"

"You'll leave Sunday night from Andrews. Coates will have your itinerary." The admiral stood up and Harm stood with him, standing automatically at attention.

"Will that be all, sir?"

After a pause, the admiral shook his head. "No, son."

"Sir?"

"Harm, I told you what you said at the barbeque wasn't totally wrong and I know we've discussed this before, but I am sorry…so _damn _sorry about all of it." The admiral sounded defeated. "I know my actions, or inactions at the time, contributed to Mac's disappearance, and I—I will never forget that." Now the admiral sounded more than defeated, he sounded broken. "It's because of me, allowing her to go to Paraguay and then not allowing you to go after her, that all of this happened. She didn't die then, but she…she died anyway…"

Harm looked at the admiral in shock. The man leaned against his desk, shoulders slumped, looking nothing like the proud former naval seal he was when Harm walked into this room. "I should have quit long ago, Harm," the admiral continued, "but I've made the decision to retired at the end of the year. I'm not cut out for this anymore, and I've failed as a CO."

Harm, as angry as he was with the admiral, knew that the man truly regretted his actions. The man sounded utterly bereft, and suddenly, Harm couldn't let the man who'd once been like a father to Mac go on believing certain…_things. _

"Sir? You—you haven't failed."

"What?"

"You haven't failed sir. Mac's not dead."

"Son…" the admiral admonished, and Harm knew the older man thought that Harm was living in a fantasy world.

"No, sir. It's true. She's alive."

"How do you—"

Harm took a deep breath.

"Because I found her."

* * *

_End Chapter 21_


	22. I Had a Love

_A/N: And here is 22. See additional author's notes at the end of this chapter. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 22: I Had a Love**

_August 2005_

_1815 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile _

_Whitefish, MT_

Mary watched Mac move up and down the aisles, straightening items as she went. The younger woman still did her job efficiently, still smiled and spoke to the customers, but there was such an aura of grief about her that Mary's heart broke more each time she saw her.

Today Mac looked utterly exhausted as well, with dark circles under her eyes that her concealer didn't come close to hiding. Mary had offered to send her home for the afternoon, but Mac's eyes had filled with tears and she'd practically begged to be allowed to stay. Mary had been taken aback at Mac's pleading and found herself pulling the younger woman into her arms, reassuring her that of course she didn't have to leave.

Mary wondered if the reason Mac was losing sleep had anything to do with the fact that Harm had been sent to an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean. Mac's commander had actually called Mary and told her of his new assignment; he'd wanted to reassure himself that Mary would continue to look out for the woman he loved and would be there for her should anything happen to him. Of course, he needn't have worried about any of that; Mary would always watch over the woman she'd come to love as a daughter.

Harm had called Mac as well, Mary knew, but she hadn't picked up according to him. It was obvious that she'd gotten the message, however; when she'd showed up for work the next day, she'd looked utterly devastated.

With a sad, deep sigh, Mary went over to Mac where she stood in the "Montana Made" food aisle. The younger woman's slender fingers were in the process of straightening a row of huckleberry jams, and when Mary called to her, she was so startled she almost knocked one of the glass jars off the shelf.

"Easy, Sam," Mary placed a hand on Mac's shoulder, dismayed when her employee and friend's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Mac…" she murmured as she embraced her for the second time that day. Mary only called Mac 'Mac' when they were alone; yes, here she was still Samantha O'Hara, but once Mary had learned the truth, she felt Mac suited her for some reason.

"I'm sorry, Mary," she sniffled.

"Sweetie, you don't have to be sorry. I know it's been hard…"

Mac nodded against her. "And it only seems to be getting harder."

"Mac…why don't you call him…" She knew that would be difficult with Harm at sea, but surely something could be done…

"I can't…he's on a carrier."

Mary nodded, though of course she already knew that. "There's no way—"

"It would be too difficult," Mac said with finality, so Mary let it go. She pulled back a little from Mac and studied her a moment. She really did look utterly exhausted and Mary suspected she hadn't been eating all that much either.

"Mac, honey…come home with me tonight. Have dinner with Dan and me. Stay over. I'll have Dan go over and feed Nic."

Mac appeared to be considering it, but to Mary's disappointment, she shook her head. "No, I'd be terrible company and I'm really not feeling well." This too was said with concrete finality, and Mary knew better than to push.

"Okay, sweetheart…but please call if you need anything and try to get some sleep…and _eat _something! I know you haven't had much of an appetite but try, for me, okay?"

Mac looked away from her but silently nodded and stepped out of Mary's embrace. "I'd better finish here," she said, motioning around her.

"Honey, go home. I got this. I'll finish closing." Mary was relieved when Mac didn't fight her; she simply nodded and headed toward the back, tossing a 'thank you' behind her after she had taken a few steps.

"You're welcome, sweetie," Mary said softly, watching Mac's slender form until it disappeared from view. With a sigh, she returned to the work of closing the store for the night, uneasy about this whole situation.

* * *

_1826 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mac stepped into her house and leaned against the door with her eyes closed once she had it shut and locked behind her. She really did not feel well; that wasn't a lie, but she didn't intend to eat anything. The fairly bland pastry she'd had at lunchtime still sat in her stomach like a lead weight, and she swallowed down another wave of nausea. She'd felt like this since she'd awakened this morning and that, coupled with the intense fatigue she'd been feeling since she'd returned from Pennsylvania, made her feel utterly miserable. She supposed she should have taken Mary up on her offer to go home early, but she hadn't relished being alone, either. She had been relieved, however, when Mary offered to finish closing; by then, she'd completely reached her limit.

A soft 'meow' at her feet announced Nicodemus' presence, and Mac opened her eyes and knelt down to pet her cat. "Hey, Nic. Were you a good kitty today?" she asked, and Nic gave her a look that clearly said, "of course." He seemed almost offended that she'd asked such a question, and in spite of herself, Mac chuckled. "Oh, Nic…I'm so glad you're here," she said, her eyes filling again with tears. That was another thing she couldn't seem to control today; those damnable tears had lurked below the surface all day, using every opportunity to show themselves. With a sigh, Mac brushed the tears from her eyes, then stood and crossed the room to the kitchen so she could feed Nic.

Five minutes later, with Nic fed and his water refreshed, Mac made her way to her bathroom. She quickly brushed her teeth, then pulled her hair from the braid she'd put it up in this morning. She rarely put her hair up in anything other than a ponytail, but as she'd looked at her pale face in the mirror after she'd showered, she decided she needed to do something to make herself look more put together. She doubted she'd been all that successful, but at least she'd tried. Her hair, still damp when she'd braided it, fell about her shoulders in ripples, and she reached into a drawer for her brush. She made quick use of it, then slipped it back in its place, hesitated a moment before shutting the drawer. She ran a finger over the little box she'd bought two days ago, swallowing hard. Maybe tonight was the time…

_No, _she thought. _Not yet. _She just couldn't face anything else right now. The drawer closed with a sharp thump.

Not even bothering with a nightgown, Mac slipped into bed clad only in her panties. Despite the early evening sunshine, the room was fairly dark thanks to blackout shades Mac had hung shortly after she'd moved in and before she turned off the bedside lamp, she glanced down at the answering machine that rested next to it. Her finger hovered about the play button several seconds before she pressed it, cursing herself for her weakness as his voice filled the dimly lit room once again…

"_Mac…I know I said I wouldn't call, but I needed to tell you that I'll be heading for the _Seahawk_ for the next couple of months. I didn't want to leave with letting you know in case you decided to contact me since I'll be harder to reach—I hope you aren't mad. _

"_Mac, sweetheart…I hope you found what I left in your bag before you left the farm…I meant every word in my letter. I will always love you and I don't intend to let you go. I didn't fight you when you left—I didn't want to make things harder for you, but we're going to work this out. I'll give you some space at the moment and I hope you'll be ready to talk when I get back—probably around the end of September. _

"_I'm so sorry I missed you; it would have been nice to hear your voice before I ship out, but I guess I'll have to deal with that. I love you, Mac. Goodbye."_

Mac had stood in the doorway of her bedroom, shaking as she listened to the voice she'd long to here since she'd left him, but couldn't make herself pick up the phone. His forlorn voice broke her heart even more and she'd almost caved and answered the phone, but he'd hung up before she could reach it. She'd cried hard, the next day discovering that he'd also left a message on her cellphone. She'd forgotten it in her purse the night before, and she found herself once again crying with her disappointment.

Once Harm's message ended, Mac told herself once again she should to delete it. Just like every time before, she couldn't go through with it, and her disgust with herself increased as she slid down into the covers before rolling on her side. Her arm snaked under the pillow next to hers, her fingers searching out the object Harm had left in her suitcase. She pulled out the blue velvet box and flipped it open before quickly closing it and shoving it under the pillow again. Her hand grazed against the note Harm had slipped around it, and she pulled that out to read once again.

_My Dearest Mac, _

_I know right now you think we're over and this can't work between us. I wonder if you also think that once again, I'm not fighting you on that…nothing could be further from the truth. I love you and somehow, some way, we'll figure this out. I'm letting you go now but this won't be forever. Not if I can help it. _

_Another thing—though you didn't accept it before, I'm still giving you this ring. It's yours, no one else's, and if, god forbid, we never meet again, it will still be yours. Nothing would make me happier than to see it on your finger, but I can be patient. _

_Just remember, I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. Be safe, sweetheart. _

_I __will __see you again. _

_Love, _

_H_

When she'd first read the letter, she'd been angry. Furious. Here he was, manipulating her. It didn't take her long, however, to regain her reason. He'd done it because he loved her. She didn't share his optimism that they'd find a way to work this out; that would involve too many sacrifices on his part, but she was completely and utterly relieved that he wasn't angry with her. She, however, did not feel the same. She was furious with herself. She hated herself for not being able to get over the hurt that caused her to leave the marines and JAG behind, and each night she prayed she'd wake up with the strength to let it all go.

Thus far, that prayer had not been answered, and she doubted it ever would.

Mac slid the Harm's note back under the pillow, then curled into a little ball. She felt Nicodemus leap onto the bed after a few seconds, and then he was suddenly trying to push his way into her, causing her to have to uncoil a bit. Nic settled against her belly, purring softly, while Mac silently cried herself to sleep.

* * *

_1745 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

The next few days weren't any better than they'd been before. She was still queasy and exhausted and she could often feel Mary's eyes on her as she moved about the store. Occasionally Mary asked her if she'd heard from Harm and each time Mac shook her head, tears in her eyes, embarrassed that since she'd returned from Pennsylvania, she hadn't even opened her email. He'd only called her the one time, but email would be readily available on the carrier. She hadn't decided if she hadn't checked to see if he'd messaged her that way because she was afraid he had, or if she was afraid he hadn't.

Her nights had been following the same routine this past week; she'd come home, feed Nic, then go to bed with Nic against her belly. She tried to eat a little something, but her stomach often rebelled, so she did her best to lightly snack throughout the day. She knew it made Mary feel better to see her eating _something. _

Mary often asked her over, but Mac hadn't accepted her invitations for the last couple of weeks. She was just too tired, too miserable, and while she appreciated Mary's efforts, she just wanted to be left alone. For the most part, her employer and friend respected that, but Mac noticed that Mary must be sending Dan over to do little things like mow her tiny yard and trim the few trees. He'd even cleaned her gutters out. The day she realized that was a rough one; it reminded her of when Harm had first found her and she'd rushed home to ask him to stay longer. He'd been up on a ladder doing that onerous job and Mac would give anything to go back to that day and never let him go.

Mac and Mary didn't discuss Dan's help, but Mac always made it a point to hug Mary to her and whisper, "Tell Dan thanks." Mary would squeeze her tightly and merely nod.

Currently, Mac was tidying up the little coffee area, getting it ready for the next business day, thankful that the day was almost over. She vowed that before the clock struck six, she'd be at the door waiting to lock it. She glanced over at the clock on the coffee maker, noting that there was still fifteen minutes until closing. As hard as it was for her to admit, her time sense had been on the fritz for weeks. Her focus had been off too; she didn't notice Mary come up behind her until the other woman's voice

"I can finish up here, Mac."

Mac jumped, and the mug she was holding crashed to the floor, shattering at her feet. "Oh, god, Mary, I'm so-so s-s-sorry!" she stammered out, before she started to sob. Mary silently moved away from her, and Mac cried harder, convinced her employer was disgusted at this ridiculous display of emotion. Instead, though there was still ten minutes before official closing time, Mary had locked the door and flipped the sign on the door from 'OPEN' to 'CLOSED.' When she returned, she coaxed Mac into one of the chairs at the counter and cleaned up the broken cup. Mac did her best to calm down but by the time Mary was at her side, she'd only succeeded in slowing the tears the barest amount.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you home." Still mortified by her actions, Mac allowed Mary to do just that.

Once she'd made it home and fed Nicodemus, she made herself some toast, ate half of it, then started to get ready for bed. She couldn't decide if the toast had helped her nausea or made it worse but then just shrugged. Misery was misery. She wished Harm were here. She wished she could do what she needed to do.

Mac had developed another ritual in the last week. Each night after brushing her hair, she'd return her brush to its drawer, then pull out the little box she still hadn't opened. She'd stare at it for long moments, then shove it back where it came from before she climbed into bed and cried.

Tonight was different, however. This time she tore open one end of it, reaching in with her fingers to pull out its contents. She stared at it, turned it over a few times, and before she knew it, it went back into the drawer along with the box, the drawer slamming in just before she threw up in the toilet.

Shaking, she brushed her teeth again, then fell into bed. She didn't cry this time, but certain words ran on repeat through her mind, robbing her of much-needed sleep.

_You're so pathetic. You're so pathetic. You're so pathetic…_

Mac wanted to scream.

* * *

_One week later…_

_1133 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mary looked up to see Mac running into the back room again. It had been happening with alarming frequency, at least twice each morning, more and more in the afternoon, and Mary wondered when Mac was going to acknowledge what Mary already knew. With a sigh, she turned to ring up a customer, a local woman who often bought her lemon huckleberry coffee cake mix. The woman gathered up her purchases and turned to go, but then looked back at Mary.

"Sam has been looking so tired lately. Is she okay?" The woman was sincere in her concern, Mary knew, and she gave her an appreciative smile.

"Yeah, she's fine, Susan," she lied. Well, it wasn't a total lie; Mary was certain Mac would be fine again soon. _At least I hope so, _she thought to herself as she said goodbye to her customer. Seeing that the store was now empty, she went into the back room to wait for Mac to come out of the bathroom. Five minutes later, the rather green-looking woman pulled open the door and found herself face-to-face with her concerned employer.

"I'm sending you home, Mac," she said without preamble. Mac started to protest, but Mary was not having any of it. "You need your rest, and I can't have you throwing up our pastries in the aisles. That would definitely not be good for sales, don't you think?"

Mary was pleased when Mac gave her a little smile. "I suppose not."

"Now," Mary continued, "go home, and you're off tomorrow. Don't argue." Mac just stared at her wide-eyed, biting her lip, not agreeing but not protesting either. Finally, Mary pulled her into her arms. "You need to find out," she whispered into Mac's ear and Mac pulled away, surprise evident in her features. Mary offered her a soft smile and eventually Mac nodded.

"Okay," she whispered, then gathered her things. Before she left, she hesitated at the door, then turned back around. "Mary, I—" Mac bit her lip and those ever-present tears once again filled her gorgeous brown eyes. "I—" She choked on the words and stood there blinking.

"Go, Mac," Mary said gently. "It'll be okay."

Mac finally nodded again, and then she was gone.

* * *

_1144 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Nicodemus seemed surprised when Mac entered her home hours earlier than usual. Mac patted him on the head and pleased, he wound himself around her legs, following her as she headed toward the bathroom. Mac was on a mission, a mission she'd ignored for far too long.

As soon as she reached the little room, she pulled open that particular drawer. She picked up the little box that had been tormenting her for days, slid out the insert and read the directions carefully. Then, she picked up the little stick. She did what needed to be done, then sat down against the tub and waited. Nicodemus, oddly respectful when Mac used the toilet, stepped inside and she pulled him into her lap. "I'm scared, Nic." The animal did the only thing he could to comfort her; he nuzzled against her, eventually tucking his furry head under her chin.

Three minutes later, Mac set Nic back on the floor and stood up. With shaking hands, she picked up the stick that rested on the back of the toilet. Taking a deep breath, she flipped it over.

There, in a little window were two little pink lines…two pink lines that told her life as she knew it was over.

She slid back down onto the floor and pulled Nic back into her lap. "Oh, Nic," she whispered, then cried into his fur.

* * *

_End Chapter 22_

* * *

_A/N 2: So, yes, I did it again…I knocked Mac up. I know I do that a lot—I wonder if it's a way to make up for what they did to Mac on the show. Four percent?! Jerks. And mnsong, you got me! What will Mac do now? :)_


	23. Misty Blue

_A/N: Here is 23. Housekeeping/filler chapter but needs to be here to get from point A to point B, I guess!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 23: Misty Blue**

_September 2005_

_1745 Local_

_USS Seahawk_

_Somewhere at sea_

Harm stepped out onto the fantail, welcoming the burst of wind that rippled through his clothing. It was warm out here, but still, he shivered, though he knew it had more to do with a nagging feeling that Mac needed him.

He'd had a dream last night of her crying, scared, and while he didn't remember anything else about it, the image of her in tears stuck with him.

He wondered if he should just call her, but he worried that any call made from the ship could be monitored and would lead to her discovery. He hadn't emailed her for the same reason, and he wondered if he was being excessively paranoid. They'd be in port in a few weeks; he made up his mind to contact her then.

His assignment here on the _Seahawk_ had been good for him; being away from headquarters gave him some peace and a much-needed break from everything. He'd gotten to fly a few times and the benefits of that to his psyche weren't insignificant. He did, however, miss Mac more and more each day to the point that it was painful. Excruciating, even.

With a sigh he leaned against the railings, reveling in the scent of the sea and jet fuel and did his best to let it calm him. He was marginally successful and several minutes later, he straightened, figuring he'd best go finish up a few reports for the admiral.

He'd kept in fairly good contact with his CO, beyond that which was actually required, and he acknowledged that part of the reason for that was that he needed to reassure himself that the admiral was keeping Mac's secret. To say that the older man was floored by Harm's revelation in July would be the understatement of all understatements, and he'd done his best to get more information from Harm. Harm, however, had no intention of divulging anything further…

* * *

_Flashback…_

"_You found her? When? Where? Dammit, Harm! Why haven't you said anything?"_

"_She didn't want anyone else to know." AJ's eyes narrowed as he stared Harm down, but Harm didn't flinch. Eventually the admiral sighed and looked away. _

"_Is she…is she…okay?" his CO asked, looking anywhere but at Harm. _

_Harm wasn't willing to sugarcoat things. "She's…hurting, sir. She hasn't really gotten over Paraguay, and I think she's even more traumatized by the events afterwards."_

_AJ nodded. "So, what you said at the barbeque…that wasn't idle speculation."_

"_No, sir."_

_AJ started to pace about the office. "Surely she has to realize that we— "_

_Harm cut him off, his ire rising once again. "No, sir, she doesn't, but then why would she? From all accounts, everyone here treated her deplorably. You've all admitted to it to some extent, and after what she told me the last time— "_

"_You've seen her? Recently?"_

_Harm nodded, praying he wasn't giving too much away. "She came out to the farm over the fourth."_

_AJ stopped his pacing and glanced sharply at his chief of staff. Harm once again met his CO's piercing gaze without flinching, and he could see some sort of understanding dawn in the admiral's eyes. _

"_You're involved with her, aren't you!"_

_Admiral Chegwidden sounded rather disapproving, which in Harm's estimation was completely inappropriate. _

"_I don't see that that's any of your business, sir." The admiral continued to glare and finally Harm rolled his eyes. "Yes, sir, I am, although right now she doesn't think we can work."_

"_Why not?"_

"_Sir…" _

_AJ nodded in understanding. "Where is she, then?"_

_Harm shook his head. "You know I can't tell you that, Admiral," he said with a sigh. "I just couldn't let you go on thinking certain things."_

"_What about them?" AJ nodded at the door. _

"_Sir, she'd likely not forgive me for telling you. I won't betray her any further by telling them her whereabouts."_

"_Seems rather cruel to let them think she—"_

"_Frankly, sir, I don't give a damn about that." Harm ran his hand over his face. "Look, I know they regret everything, but I don't think you realize the extent of the damage they've done to her. I know I'm not innocent in this either, but we've talked it out. I know I didn't deserve it, but she forgave me."_

"_I'd like to talk to her…tell her…" the admiral responded, and Harm looked at him sadly. _

"_That's just not possible, sir."_

"_Why not?" his CO snapped, though Harm suspected that he knew the reason. _

"_Sir…_

"_Right. Fine, you have your orders. I'll take care of reassigning your cases—"_

"_Sir, there's not really any cases…you haven't—"_

"_Oh, of course, well then…dismissed," the admiral said gruffly, and Harm got to his feet._

"_Aye, sir." With that, Harm turned on his heal and left the admiral's office. _

_Later that day, just before he left, Harm returned to Admiral Chegwidden's office holding a small Manila envelope. He gave it to his CO, who turned it over in his hands. "What's this, Commander?"_

"_Mac's address and phone number, along with the name she's using now. There's also a letter in there for her. I'm going to ask you not to open that envelope unless something happens to me and I don't make it back, and if you do need to contact her, please don't tell anyone about her unless she allows it." Harm gazed down at his CO expectantly, and after long moments, the older man nodded. _

"_Agreed, Commander." The admiral held out his hand and Harm shook it firmly. _

"_Dismissed."_

"_Aye, sir."_

* * *

Now, back in the present, Harm gave a final glance to the sea beyond and then stepped back inside, deciding he'd go grab some chow before finishing his reports, only to be met by a young ensign.

"Commander Rabb?"

"What can I do for you, Ensign?"

"You have a call from Admiral Chegwidden, sir."

"I'll take it in the JAG office. Thank you, Ensign," Harm said calmly, though his insides had started to churn. This couldn't be good; of course, his mind immediately went to Mac.

He nearly sprinted back to his office.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Harm was on his way to the officer's mess, both relieved and disappointed that the admiral's call was to tell him to expect to be out here at least another two months. Apparently, something big was on the horizon and Admiral Chegwidden, or more likely, the SecNav, wanted someone with Harm's unique 'expertise,' whatever that meant. He supposed he'd learn soon enough; his main concern now was Mac. He needed to find a way to let her know he was still out here, that he still wanted and needed her.

_This is stupid. Just email her! Why would they care who Samantha O'Hara of Whitefish, MT is? _Harm abruptly turned on his heel and nearly tripped over the knee knocker he'd just crossed over, now focused on going to his stateroom to finally send an email he should have sent long before. He quickened his pace and started to compose his email to her in his head. A scant few steps later, Harm was called to the bridge, his plans for that evening, the next week, nay, the next few months, utterly derailed.

And between the email he never got to write and the email she would never check for anyway, Mac wouldn't know that Harm would not be back at JAG for some time.

When she would finally gather her courage to call him to tell him about the baby, she would only think he was avoiding her.

That they were _through. _

She would be devastated.

* * *

_August 2005_

_0630 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mac rolled over in bed, only to find herself frantically stumbling from underneath the covers and rushing to the bathroom to vomit. Once she finished, she sat back on the floor, thinking that morning sickness was a pretty cruel joke to play on women everywhere. Calling it morning sickness was pretty cruel as well as it implied that once the clock struck noon it would all go away. Not so. Mac was nauseated from sunup to sundown although in the last week, she seemed to only be throwing up in the morning, which was an improvement from last week.

Mac still hadn't seen a doctor, nor had she called Harm to tell him about the baby. She knew she had to do both, and soon, but she guessed wasn't quite ready for it all to be real.

The day after she'd taken the pregnancy test, Mac had gone back to work, answering Mary's inquiring look with a somber nod. Shortly thereafter, Mary's backroom refrigerator was suddenly stocked with ginger ale and saltine crackers graced the shelves of their little kitchenette. Mary's care for her frequently brought Mac to tears, and she thanked God daily that He'd put Mary in her path practically the instant she'd arrived in Montana. The older woman was exactly what she'd needed after leaving all the pain of JAG behind.

Feeling a little better but still queasy, Mac got off her bathroom floor after a few minutes, brushed her teeth, and took a quick shower. She grabbed a couple of crackers for herself, immediately regretting them when the taste of them combined with the mint from her toothpaste. She rode out the wave of nausea, fed Nic, who had been rather solicitous for a cat since she'd become pregnant, and then headed into the store. Mary was already there checking inventory and doing some general tidying as they prepared to open, while Mac went and started the coffee.

Coffee had proven to be a bit of a conundrum to her. She loved the smell of it, perhaps even more than she did before, but one sip, and she'd feel the urge to retch into the sink. She supposed that wasn't all bad, though; she knew she shouldn't have too much caffeine, and she already hated decaf coffee so there would be no substituting the real stuff for that.

Once she had the coffee going, she started unpacking the pastries that had been delivered earlier that morning, helping herself to a peach Danish which had of late become her favorite food. Mary had taken to ordering extra for her even though it was Mac that generally took care of the purchasing for the coffee area.

"Morning, honey," Mary greeted as she came behind the counter and poured herself some of the freshly made coffee. She poured a healthy amount of creamer into it along with a couple of spoonfuls of sugar. "How are you today?" she asked as she stirred her steaming beverage.

Mac shrugged. "Good enough." She grinned a little. "I promise I won't be throwing up any pastries in the aisles today."

"Good," Mary grinned, then grew serious. "So…have you called him?"

Mac looked down at her hands for a moment, then shook her head.

"No, I—I haven't. Not yet."

"Okay," was Mary's only comment, and then she went around the counter to make herself comfortable on one of the stools there. They still had about forty-five minutes until the store opened, and this was their time catch up with one another and discuss store business.

"That's it?" Mac asked softly. She hadn't expected Mary to just accept her answer.

"You'll tell him when you're ready."

Mac felt a lump form in her throat. "But what if I'm never ready?"

Mary was silent for a moment, then reached across the counter to cover Mac's hand with her own. "Then you'll tell him anyway."

Mac blinked back her tears and nodded, then went about her business.

* * *

_September 2005_

_1802 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

Mac stepped into the backroom after locking the front door. Mary was going to finish closing tonight which, to Mac's chagrin, she'd been doing for the last few weeks given Mac was still 'enjoying' her first trimester exhaustion, and currently the older woman was doing some computer work. Mac gathered her things and tried to hide a yawn, but of course, Mary noticed.

"Going to bed early tonight, I hope?" she asked mildly, and Mac gave her a rueful smile.

"Tonight and every night."

Mary chuckled lightly. "I remember those days. I was okay with Jamie, but with Jeffrey, I think Dan carried me to bed at least five nights a week. I was working as a nurse then, and on the days I worked, those twelve hour shifts nearly did me in." Mary shifted in her seat in an apparent to see Mac more clearly. "Speaking of, you'll come to Jamie and Dan's birthday on Saturday, won't you?" Mary's husband and her older son shared a birthday, and both boys would be home for the weekend to celebrate. Despite Jamie being twenty-eight as of this weekend and Jeffrey twenty-six, Mary and Dan still referred to them as "the boys," much to Mac's amusement. Jamie lived and worked in Denver as an architect, while Jeffrey was in his second year of an orthopedic surgery residency in Seattle.

"Of course, I'll be there, Mary. It'll be good to see "the boys" again," she said with a smile. She hadn't seen them very often since she'd moved to Montana, but they were just as nice as their parents were.

Mary nodded in acknowledgement, then turned back to her work. Meanwhile, Mac stood nearby, unmoving. Her employer must have felt Mac's eyes on her, for once again, she turned toward the other woman. "Is everything alright, sweetie?"

Mac started to nod, then shrugged, biting her lip nervously for a moment.

"What is it, Mac?" Mary asked, the concern in her voice evident.

Mac took a deep breath. "Um, October…October first. I-I'll c-call him on October first."

Mary's expression relaxed into a soft smile. "That's good."

"He should, uh, he should be back in Washington then," Mac continued, clenching her fists nervously. Harm had told her he expected the TAD on the _Seahawk_ to last until the end of September, so October first seemed appropriate.

"That sounds like plan, honey." Mary gazed at her expectantly, obviously realizing that Mac had a bit more to say.

"And…and I made an appointment to see a doctor…in Kalispell…it'll me more private then." Mac focused on her toes that moved back and forth along the hardwood floor beneath them. She was embarrassed it had taken this long for her to see someone to make sure the baby was okay. Suddenly, Mary was out of her chair and by her side, pulling her into a warm embrace.

"Wonderful, Mac. When is it?" Mary asked as she drew back. Mac told her, apologizing for not clearing her absence from work prior to making the appointment. Mary waved her concern aside as she pulled her in for another hug. "Would you like me to go with you, honey?" She spoke softly into Mac's ear, and Mac once again found herself choking back tears.

"W-Would you?" A blush tinged her cheeks with pink. "I mean…I know I'm a grown woman. In her late thirties, for goodness sake, but I—I'm nervous." Her last words were spoken in a small voice, and one of those annoying tears slipped down her cheek.

"Oh, Mac…of course I'll go with you." She pulled Mac close again in a motherly embrace. "I mean…this is my first grandchild."

With those words, Mac really started to cry. Mary truly was the mother she'd never had.

Later that night, as Mac lay curled up in bed with Nic snuggled close to her still flat belly, she had to acknowledge that she wasn't just nervous. She was _scared. _

Scared something would be wrong with the baby.

Scared she may yet miscarry.

Scared she'd be a terrible mother…and most of all, scared that Harm would want nothing more to do with her once he found out she was pregnant.

It didn't matter that Harm had told her he wasn't going to let her go, nor did it matter that he'd once agreed to go 'haves' on kid together with her. It didn't even matter at the moment that the Harmon Rabb, Jr she knew would never let her child be fatherless.

Her world had once again been turned on its head, and she was just uncontrollably, miserably _scared._

* * *

_End Chapter 23_


	24. I'm Gonna Be Strong

_A/N: Well, I hope this makes sense…I'm trying to post it really quick before I start my drive home (on a little vacation, and if I leave later at night, my girls will sleep the whole ride!). I'll check it over more later!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 24: I'm Gonna Be Strong**

_October 5__th__, 2005_

_1222 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

"No luck yet?"

Mac looked up as Mary stepped into the back room and shook her head. For the last five days, she had been trying to reach Harm, only to get his voicemail time after time. She'd left several messages, and this last time she'd gotten the announcement that his mailbox was full. She'd then chanced a call to his home phone and discovered it had been disconnected.

"I think…I think he's avoiding me." Mac blinked back her tears, cursing her inability to control her emotions. Pregnancy had made her extra weepy, or so she told herself, despite it having been easier to cry for the last two plus years…ever since Paraguay.

Mary sat down next to her and picked up the ultrasound photo Mac had set on the table. It was of the baby's profile, and Mac could already tell the baby had Harm's nose and legs, though she supposed a doctor would tell her it was too soon for that. Mac had been overwhelmed by the first view of her baby, her tears flowing freely along with Mary's as the older woman held her hand during the ultrasound. She couldn't believe the wash of love she felt for the tiny being growing inside of her. As scared as she was, there'd actually been a part of her that had been looking forward to telling Harm he was going to be a father. But now…

Harm wasn't answering his calls and he'd disconnected his home phone; for all she knew, he'd changed his number to spite her. She tried to tell herself that she was jumping to conclusions, that she was reading more into it all than she should, but she still had the feeling she was getting what she deserved. After all, she'd been the one to leave him—_again_, no less. Despite the note he'd included with her engagement ring that she'd been keeping under her pillow and despite his words to her as she'd left the farm, he was only human. She'd effectively told him 'never' twice now, though of course the circumstances were different this time. He didn't deserve what a life with her would mean: his departure from the navy yet again and the separation from all of his friends.

But she wouldn't, _couldn't, _keep his child from him.

She needed him to call her back, even if he cursed her, hated her…and she couldn't tell him about the baby on a voicemail. Doing it over the phone was bad enough, but at least they'd actually be talking to one another.

"Maybe his assignment on the carrier is lasting longer than he thought it would?" Mary offered and Mac shrugged.

"Maybe…" Mac answered absently, chewing on her bottom lip as another thought gnawed at her.

"Mary," she started, closing her eyes for a moment. "What if something happened to him?"

* * *

_1844 Local_

_Mac's House_

_Whitefish, MT_

Later, after she'd gotten home and fed Nicodemus, Mac curled up on her couch with Nic curled up next to her belly—his new favorite spot—and pulled out the ultrasound picture once again. She traced the lines of the baby's face, seeing Harm more than ever in it. Her throat tightened as she fought her tears again, wondering once again where Harm was and why he wasn't answering her calls.

"You said if I ever needed anything, you'd be there," she said out loud, as new tears slid down her cheeks. She angrily brushed them aside, tired of her near-constant waterworks. She felt a flash of anger at Harm, but it quickly faded. She was the one who'd told him they wouldn't work, and there was still that nagging thought that perhaps something had happened to him on the _Seahawk, _and of course, no one would know to inform her.

_I'd know if something had happened to him. I would! _she told herself, and for a moment, she closed her eyes and opened her mind, calling on their infamous connection to 'find' him. For a moment she felt nothing, but then there was a little spark—a spark that told her he was alive and well but nothing else. She slowly came back to herself, startled to find Nic with his paws on her shoulders, his green eyes looking directly into hers when they fluttered open. At her little cry of surprise, Nic brushed his cheek against hers, clearly contrite for scaring his mistress. She gathered him in her arms and stood up, suddenly exhausted, and walked toward her bedroom, sniffling yet again.

"He's out there, Nic…but he…he doesn't, he doesn't w-want…" Nic shifted within her hold, squirming until he could look her in the eye once again. He seemed to be trying to tell her something, but the life of her, she couldn't figure it out, and though she was beyond tired, she faced a restless night.

* * *

_Two weeks later…_

_1002 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

"Maybe if I called and asked for Harm—" Mary started to say, trying to be helpful, but Mac was quick to refuse.

"No…I don't want them…I don't want…" Mac threw up her arms in frustration. "I don't know what I want…"

That was, of course, a lie. Mac knew exactly what she wanted—Harm, with his arms around her, telling her everything would be alright. _Why won't he call me? _she lamented to herself, remembering how she'd tried him twice this morning, only to hear the same "this mailbox is full" message on his cell. His home phone, or at least what had been his home number, was still disconnected, and Mac was growing at once more despondent and frantic.

She still felt he was out there somewhere, unharmed. Unfortunately, she kept imagining him out with his fellow flyboys or with other women, women who were always tall and blonde, with willowy figures that didn't sport the slight baby bump that had seemed to form overnight. Oh, she could still hide it from her customers, but both Mary and Dan noticed it, and sometimes Mac wondered if she were starting to feel the tiny flutters of her baby's movements.

Mac sighed heavily and turned back to Mary. "No, don't call…at least not yet…I—I need to give him more time."

* * *

_Four weeks later…_

_November 16__th__, 2005_

_1551 Local_

_Glacier Obstetrics and Gynecology_

_Kalispell, MT_

"Okay, Ms. O'Hara, did you want to know the sex of the baby?" The ultrasound tech stood between Mac and her machine, the ultrasound probe poised over Mac's exposed, rounded belly. Mac looked over at Mary, who gave her an encouraging smile, and then she turned back to the tech and nodded.

"Yeah, let's do it," she said softly, and then she was once again treated to the sight of her baby on the screen. The tech, Molly, her nametag said, started moving the probe around over the gel she'd squirted onto Mac's tummy, did a few measurements—the baby's skull, belly, femur, marking each one with a few clicks on her keyboard. Both Mac and Mary watched in awe, and with each movement of the baby, Mac felt the flutter of it in her belly. It was utterly amazing…and utterly devastating at the same time.

She still hadn't managed to speak to Harm, and she'd all but given up. She still tried calling him, but now she'd only dial his number once or twice a week, rather than once or twice a day. Her mind began to drift as she thought of the father of her child, but then she was called back to the present by the sound of Molly's voice.

"Okay, Ms. O'Hara, this is it." She angled the ultrasound probe back and forth a bit, and then her baby revealed himself in all his glory. "Well no doubt about this one, _he's _definitely a boy."

It was another tearful moment for Mac and her son's surrogate grandmother. Thirty minutes later, the two women left the clinic and made their way to Mary's car, the older woman almost giddy. Mac, however, was more subdued. She had secretly hoped the baby would be a boy, though she would have loved a little girl just as much, and she was ecstatic that she carried a little Harm within her.

Of course, that was her main problem…her little Harm's father.

_Where are you, Harm? I _need _you! _she cried out inside. As usual, her thoughts were met with silence, and for the entirety of the ride back to Whitefish, she fought to keep her roiling emotions in check.

She was successful until the moment Mary pulled into her driveway. Every fear, every emotion she'd had since she'd suspected she was pregnant bubbled to the surface, and with a strangled cry, she called out to Mary.

"Oh, god, Mary…I-I don't think I can do this…I can't do this without him…"

"Oh, Mac…" Mary whispered and pulled her into her arms as well as she could in the front seat of her Honda. "Sweetie, yes you can…you have all of us here…"

"No, Mary…I don't _want _to do this without him…but he—he ob-obviously d-doesn't c-care…"

"Mac, sweetheart…let's go inside. Let me make you some tea…and then we'll talk," Mary said after holding Mac for several minutes. Mac's sobs had slowed somewhat, and she nodded against Mary. The two women got out of the car and made their way into the house, Mary insisting Mac sit and rest on the couch while she prepared the tea and made them both a sandwich.

After Mac had taken a few fortifying sips of her drink and had taken a couple of bites of her sandwich, Mary gently took her hand.

"Sweetheart, I know that if you never hear from Harm again, you will be strong enough to raise this baby on your own. This town loves you, and we'll all be there to help you. I also know how much you love Harm and how much you want to share this with him. Everything in me tells me he wouldn't just ignore you, not after what he went through to find you. He may be angry, he may be hurt, but that man loves you. There has to be a reason he isn't contacting you, and I'm sure it has something to do with his duties. You yourself told me that the two of you found yourselves in any number of undercover situations and dangerous missions…why can't it be something like that? What if…what if something…"

Mac shook her head vehemently. "No, Mary, he's out there…he's fine…he's just…"

"Just what?"

Mac shook her head. "I—I just know he's okay."

"How—"

Mac wrapped her arms around herself and took a deep breath. "We—we just have this…this _connection."_

"Well, that's obvious, Mac."

Mac shook her head again. "No…you don't understand…remember how I told you that he always knows where I am?" She paused and Mary nodded. "It goes beyond that…"

With that, Mac told Mary about how Harm knew she was in the submarine near the Russian sub he'd found himself on, how she'd found him in the middle of the ocean against impossible odds, and then how he'd found her in Paraguay. She didn't go into major details of course, the mission being classified, but did make sure Mary understood that if it hadn't been for their connection, she'd likely have died horribly. Mary listened to the stories wide-eyed, obviously a little stunned that two lawyers still had such adventures.

"So…I know he's alive…and he's obviously avoiding me." Mac finished, then flopped back against the cushions of her couch, her arm over her eyes.

"I think you're wrong about that, sweetie." Mary's voice was firm, and Mac instantly felt her ire rise. _How the hell would she know?!_

Mary ignored the fire in Mac's eyes and continued speaking. "And you won't be able to relax and stay healthy with this pregnancy unless you find out where he is and what's keeping him from you. You need to just call—"

Mac abruptly stood up, ignoring the dizziness she still sometimes felt if she moved too quickly. She was furious…furious that Mary would even suggest she call anyone else regarding Harm. "I will _never_ do that! You have no idea what you're suggesting!"

"Then let me call! They'll have no idea who I am; I can ask—"

"No! You can't do that!"

"Why not?"

There was a little voice inside Mac that told her she was being ridiculous about this. Why couldn't Mary call JAG? Why couldn't she try to see if she could reach Harm?

_Because…_

_That's not a real reason, Mac…_

"You just can't! Just—just go, Mary. I want to be alone. _Please…" _

From the corner of her eye, Mac saw Mary nod and silently walk toward the door. Just before she opened it, the older woman turned back toward her. "Mac, sweetheart, I love you…I only want you to be okay. You aren't going to rest until you can talk to Harm and I know you know there's more to this than him just ignoring you. You know what you need to do…" With that, Mary turned and went out the door, leaving Mac to cry into her hands.

* * *

_December 2005_

_0745 Local_

_Monarch Mercantile_

_Whitefish, MT_

"You got a minute?" Mac asked hesitantly as she stepped into the backroom of the store. Her relationship with Mary had been strained since the day of her ultrasound. Mac knew it was her doing; she'd been so angry and defensive about Mary suggesting she call JAG, and it had taken her a while to realize she'd been so angry because Mary was right. She was still terrified that Harm really didn't want anything to do with her, but as her pregnancy progressed and she grew more used to the hormonal fluctuations, she could acknowledge that there may be something more to Harm's silence. She owed it to him and herself to call JAG Headquarters…no one need know it was the former Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. She'd talk to Harm or get a clue about his whereabouts, and all would be…well, maybe not _well, _but there would be a resolution to all of this.

"Of course, sweetheart." Mary motioned for Mac to join her at the table where she sat going over some of the books. Mac hesitated a moment, but then stepped closer and pulled out a chair. She carefully lowered herself into it, rubbing her hand over her expanding belly as her son started to turn cartwheels inside of her.

"I'm going to call him."

Mary raised an eyebrow and Mac nodded.

"At JAG."

Mary watched Mac for a moment then broke out into a brilliant smile. "I'm so glad, honey."

"And I'm s-s-sorry…"

"Oh, honey…it's okay…it's okay…" Mary put her arms around Mac, crooning words of forgiveness and comfort for several minutes until Mac calmed.

Mac pulled away after a few more moments and brushed the remaining tears from her face. She chuckled ruefully as she sniffled, giving Mary a little smile. "I swear I never used to cry so much." Mary chuckled softly with her until Mac grew serious again.

"I'd like to call now. It's almost ten there; the morning 'rush' should be over…but…and I know I have no right to ask this…but would you stay here with me while I do it?" She was afraid to look Mary in the eye, but she forced herself to as she bit her lip nervously. Mary's expression was soft, though, and she nodded firmly.

"Of course, I will."

Mac gave her a wan smile and pulled her cellphone from her pocket. "Well, here goes nothing…" Mary smiled encouragingly, and Mac flipped open her phone and started to dial the number she was surprised she still remembered after all these months. It started to ring and Mac tried to keep herself from hyperventilating. Finally, someone picked up…and Mac flipped the phone shut again.

"Mac?" Mary spoke, looking almost disappointed.

"I can't do this."

"_Maaac," _Mary said with just a hint of exasperation and Mac shook her head.

"No…I mean, I can't just call…I need to tell him, I know…but I have to do it in person."

Mary's eyes widened in shock, but Mac knew her boss's surprise was nothing compared to hers. She hadn't even been thinking about traveling to DC again, but the idea popped into her head and came out her mouth. Plans formulated in her mind, almost without her bidding.

"Mac? You'd really go to JAG?"

Mac shook her head. "No…I-I'll go to the Wall—the Vietnam memorial," she clarified. "He always goes on Christmas Eve…his father was shot down that night in '69…so he goes there…every Christmas Eve," she repeated.

"I'll meet him there."

* * *

_End Chapter 24_


	25. Detour

_A/N: Well, another update. Thanks as always for the reviews! I've neglected thanking you all and I want you all to know I appreciate all who read my work and review. Have a great night!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 25: Detour**

_December 24__th__, 2005_

_2321 Local_

_Vietnam War Memorial _

_Washington, DC_

Mac stood in the shadows and suppressed a shiver. It wasn't all that cold for DC in December, but she'd been standing here for the last forty-five minutes, and the cool air was starting to penetrate even her Montana-approved winter parka. She checked her watch again, the combination of pregnancy and nerves having short-circuited her time sense at the moment, and figured that Harm should be there within the next half hour; in all the years she'd known him, he'd always visited the Wall after the annual Christmas Eve service. Depending on how long the service went, he would generally arrive between eleven-thirty and midnight. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she continued to scan the small crowd that milled around the war memorial, keeping her eyes open for Harm's impressively tall figure.

Mac had arrived in Washington that afternoon, relieved that she hadn't seen anyone she knew from when she was still Sarah MacKenzie. She hadn't checked any luggage, so as soon as she was off the plane, she rushed to the rental car counter, picked up her car, then hightailed it to her hotel. She tried to relax by taking a warm bath and it helped somewhat; her muscles lost some of their tension, but it seemed to awaken her son. The baby inside kicked and rolled, and despite her apprehension regarding her trip here, her son's movements still gave her a sense of effervescent joy.

After a light supper courtesy of room service, Mac had tried her best to nap, but her efforts were futile. She'd finally left for the Wall around 2245, and now she waited…

* * *

_December 24th, 2005_

_2100 Local _

_Afghanistan, exact location classified_

Harm flopped back on his cot. Since he'd been tapped for this particular, his days had pretty much run together, and it was with surprise that he realized it was Christmas Eve. Though it was late and he was tired, Harm climbed out of bed and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen from the small "desk" in his quarters. What passed for his desk here was a rather small table that rocked on uneven legs and a paper accordion-type file holder. He had a laptop too, but that was strictly for military use.

For the last few months now, he found himself in various camps providing guidance on ROE, flying various classified missions, all while being relatively incommunicado with everyone but his CCDR. He ached to talk to Mac and everyday he wished he'd had the opportunity to communicate with her before he took on this duty. In lieu of that, he'd written her letters at least twice a week, then stored them in the pack he carried with him everywhere. As soon as he finished his work here, he intended to deliver them to her in person, whether she wanted him to or not.

Harm still had the feeling that Mac needed him, or maybe his need for her was so great that it just felt that way, but all he could do was pour his heart out to her in short, handwritten notes. As was Christmas, however, she deserved something more…

_My Dearest Mac, _

_Merry Christmas, sweetheart. It's crazy to think that it's already been a year since you came out to the farm for our first Christmas together. I had hoped we'd be together this year as well, married, maybe even a child on the way (I haven't forgotten our deal and you know I never make a promise I don't intend to keep), but the best laid plans, as they say…_

_I've made a decision. After this 'mission' I fully intend to retire, and yes, it is because I want to be with you. Now, don't give me that look…I gave up the navy once to come after you in Paraguay and I'd do it all over again, but this time it's different. Before I had visions of sweeping you off your feet and then riding off into the sunset with you. I had no idea about the details; I figured everything would just fall into place once I found you, and when it didn't, I became a jealous, bitter bastard. _

_This time, I've had more time to plan…first there were all those months when no one had any idea where you were, then there was the beautiful time in between then and now where we finally knew each other's love, and now we've had these months of separation. Through all of that, I have had one goal in mind…you. Understand, I do love the navy, but since I found you again, it hasn't had the same hold on me. I've experienced life without the navy and I've experienced life without you—let me tell you, my love, life without you was infinitely worse. I know you're going to tell me that I shouldn't leave the navy again for you, or you'll tell me that I'm only 'threatening' to give it up for you so you'll be guilted into coming back here with me. That isn't it at all, Mac. I'm giving it up because there is absolutely nothing more important in my life than you. I can see us raising our babies in Whitefish, me flying for search and rescue or medical flights, and you…you can do whatever you want, just as long as you let me be with you. _

_I'm not sure how much longer I'll be here, but as soon as I land back in Falls Church, I'll tell the admiral I'm leaving. My letter of resignation is already written so there's no going back now ;) _

_I'll sign off now…like every night since I last saw you, I'm sure I'll dream of you. I hope it's a happy one. _

_Merry Christmas, my darling ninja girl. _

_I love you_

_-H _

Harm folded up his letter to Mac and put it with the rest of his notes to her, then climbed back into bed. It occurred to him then that this would be the second year in a row that he didn't get to visit his father at the Wall. He felt a pang of sadness about that and sent up an apology to his dad, then drifted off with tears in his eyes. As he succumbed to slumber, however, it wasn't his tears on his mind. It was Mac's…

* * *

_December 25__th__, 2005_

_0007 Local_

_Vietnam War Memorial_

_Washington, DC_

"He isn't coming, is he…" Mac whispered as she ran a fingertip over Harm, Sr's name. She listened to the quiet around her, knowing she should get back to her hotel and warm up but still hoping Harm was merely later than usual. She waited another five minutes before she kissed her fingers and pressed them to her baby's grandfather's name, noting that the crowds were thinning even more. It probably wasn't exactly safe to be out here anymore, and she was truly shivering now, so she reluctantly returned to her car.

An hour later, she was back in her hotel room, curled up on the bed in a fluffy white robe with a pillow clutched to her chest. She had taken a quick shower to warm up, made herself some tea from the selection that was in the room, but had only taken a few sips before the stress of the day completely caught up with her and she lay down and let the tears fall. She had no idea what to do next. Logic dictated that if Harm hadn't come to the Wall, he wasn't in town, but that was small comfort.

Mac was tired of facing this alone…yes, she had Mary and Dan, but what she really needed was her baby's father. She needed Harm to know about his son, the little boy who was definitely all legs just like him. As if in acknowledgement of her thoughts, her son gave her a sharp kick that was almost painful, and she quickly slid her hand underneath her robe to rub circles over her belly, hoping to soothe the baby despite her frantic thoughts. As she felt the baby move under her hand, she wished it was Harm's hand resting there, holding her close, protecting both her and their son.

Mac slept in fits and starts before she finally achieved deeper slumber around 0500. She awoke some four hours later feeling somewhat better and immediately grabbed her phone, knowing that she should call Mary and update her on last night's events.

When she hung up the phone after wishing Mary and Dan a Merry Christmas, she flopped back on the bed. She supposed she should call the airline and book a flight home, but she certainly didn't relish getting right back on an airplane, her 'mission' here a failure. After several moments of indecision, she decided she'd just rest today. There was no sense in facing another stressful wait so soon in an airport, where someone from her past could easily discover her.

_Yes…just rest, Mac…_

Mac smiled absently to herself. The voice in her mind had sounded suspiciously like Harm's, and it gave her comfort.

* * *

_December 28__th__, 2005_

_1222 Local_

_Washington Marriot Georgetown_

_Washington, DC_

Three days later, and Mac still hadn't made up her mind as to what she should do about Harm. She'd tried his cell a few times, getting the same message she'd gotten for nearly three months. She'd ventured out a couple of times, never getting out of her car, feeling an overwhelming sadness as she drove by her old apartment and then Rock Creek Park, where she and Harm had gone running together innumerable times. She spoke to Mary twice a day, who reassured her that she was doing fine at the store without her, continued to run up quite the room service bill, took warm baths in the huge whirlpool tub in the room, and tried to read a couple of books she'd purchased in the hotel giftshop. Neither were very interesting it turned out, but they occasionally helped pass the time. Most of her time, however, was fruitlessly spent thinking up ways to locate Harm without any contact with the JAG office.

Mac had just finished a meager salad and was now pacing about her room, trying to keep herself from taking another drive. It wasn't that she was worried about the gas for her rental, or even that someone she knew would see her. Even in her most fearful times, she knew the likelihood of someone recognizing her as she drove around in a city of millions was about as close to zero as you could get.

This time, she was worried she'd find herself at Harm's apartment.

The last time she'd been there, Harm had spoken so cruelly to her. He'd been angry, furious even, and he'd hurt her terribly. Yes, she'd hurt him too, but even in light of that, his behavior had been rather shocking. The father of her child had long since made amends for that, but she wondered if seeing his apartment would take her back to that most wretched moment in time.

That wasn't what really worried her though…

What really worried her about being at Harm's apartment was the silver key marked with red nail polish that still hung from her keychain…the key to Harm's apartment. He very well could have changed the locks, especially since the last time she was there she'd just let herself in, but somehow, she doubted it. It had taken her long enough to convince him to stop leaving a spare key in the mailbox where any idiot could find it.

Mac could picture herself sliding the key in the lock before pushing the door open. She'd step inside and be overwhelmed at the sight of his things and wouldn't be able to resist running her hands over them. Then she'd climb the stairs to his bedroom lie down on his bed, a bed she'd fantasized about many, many times…no, she shouldn't go there…

She wouldn't go there…

She wouldn't…

But she would…

* * *

_1301 Local_

_Harm's Apartment_

_North of Union Station_

It happened just the way she'd imagined it, though she did knock before she pulled out her key. Once she entered the apartment, she could tell Harm hadn't been there for a while and that no one else was staying there either.

Harm's bed still smelled like him, despite having been empty for months. She snuggled into it, clutching his pillow to her, and she could have sworn the baby knew she was in his daddy's home. Harm the third's (she hadn't actually settled on any names) movements were gentle but frequent and for long moments she just enjoyed this 'closeness' with Harm and their child. Eventually she got up and silently walked to the bathroom, finding a half-empty bottle of his aftershave in the medicine cabinet that made her nearly cry at the familiar scent of it. Feeling a little foolish and maybe even a little guilty, she slid the bottle into the pocket of the hoodie she wore. Surely he wouldn't mind if she kept this olfactory memory of him.

Mac's next destination was his bedroom closet. She'd never seen inside it and was surprised at how spacious it was. She recognized much of the clothing in there, including the suit jacket he'd worn the night of her engagement party to Mic. She'd always wondered if Rene had noticed the scent of another woman on that jacket, just as she'd wondered if Mic could smell Harm on her. Actually, she'd had no doubt that he noticed the subtle hint of Harm's aftershave about her. Though he'd acted every bit the happy groom, his touches were harsher, his lovemaking rougher in the ensuing days. Mac knew now she'd dodged a bullet when Mic left town.

Mac had just found the bag containing Harm's mess dress uniform when she noticed a pair of familiar boxes on the floor in the back of the closet. Upon closer inspection, she realized that they were the same boxes she'd used to pack her belongings before putting them all in storage. She'd never asked what Harm had done with everything else besides the little table now resided by the front door of his grandmother's farmhouse, but obviously he'd kept at least a few things.

Unable to stop herself, Mac pulled the boxes into the light of the bedroom and opened the flaps of them. Both boxes contained some of Mac's more risqué novels and she blushed at the thought of Harm finding those. She pulled them out and set them aside, then decided that since they had been _her _books once upon a time, she'd take a couple with her back to the hotel. She remembered them being far more interesting than the books she had left back there.

It was what was underneath the novels that gave Mac pause. She felt her face heat up once again as a lump formed in her throat, nearly choking her as she reached in for the first photo book. She recognized the cover and knew what it contained—pictures from her first years at JAG. Two more photo books were beneath it, more chronicles of her career as a marine JAG officer.

Many minutes later, Mac sat in the middle of Harm's bedroom surrounded by pictures of her life. The book that now rested in her lap was the most painful to go through; she didn't know why she felt the need to torture herself by looking at it again, but here she was, studying it for the third time. She'd actually managed to keep her tears at bay while she'd looked through it the first couple of times and while she'd looked through the rest, but now her tear tears slid silently down her cheeks, landing on the plastic sheeting covering each page. It killed her to see one of her favorite photos of her and Harm—the one taken of them at little AJ's baptism. She was holding the baby while Harm had his arm around her. Both were looking down at the infant, and in that moment, Mac had known she was being held by the father of her children. She'd suppressed that thought over the years, but now it came back full force. After all, it was true.

The pages before contained many casual pictures of the JAG crew, and her tears began anew as she gazed at them again.

"We looked happy," she said out loud to the air around her. "Like a family." It had been true at the time; they had been a little family. Bud and Harriet were the siblings she'd never had, Admiral Chegwidden was the father figure, and Harm…well, Harm was _everything. _

And Paraguay ruined it all. _She _had ruined it all.

_No, you weren't the only one, Sarah. _The voice in her head, the one that sounded like Harm, shocked her with the use of her old name. Harm had almost exclusively called her Mac since he'd found her, and to everyone else she was Sam. Mary called her Mac now in private, Sam or Samantha in public, but _nobody _called her Sarah. She wasn't even sure she wanted anyone to.

Mac pushed the book off her lap and grabbed another one. This one had pictures of her in her marine greens, and she was astounded at the lance of pain that went through her chest at the sight of them. She'd loved being a marine, loved the strength the Corps had given her, but had left that all behind. Now that she'd settled in Montana, she found she didn't really miss it. Yes, she'd missed Harm, missed little AJ, but not the reason she even knew those people.

Perhaps that was the source of her pain: the fact that something that had been so significant in her life could be just tossed aside…

Tossed aside like she'd been by her 'friends' at JAG…

With that thought, she struggled to stand up, only to throw herself down on Harm's bed and sob…sob until she fell asleep atop tear-soaked covers, one arm around Harm's pillow, the other snaked underneath it to cover where her baby slept too.

Mac awoke in a dark room, utterly disoriented until she noticed the clock on Harm's dresser. She'd been asleep for almost seven hours and her stomach growled with hunger. She pulled herself out of bed and found the light switch, then retrieved a granola bar she'd stashed in her purse. She was thankful she'd packed a bottle of water as well; Harm had obviously shut the water off before he left. There were bigger problems related to that—she had to use the restroom quite badly and despite the later hour, she would need to risk going outside in this particular neighborhood and get herself back to her hotel room. She didn't bother to pick up the photo albums; she found she didn't care if Harm knew she'd been in his apartment and when she felt a certain warmth settle around her, she knew he wouldn't mind. She also knew now he hadn't abandoned her though she didn't know where he was or what he was doing. She just had the sense he was still with her, encouraging her.

_You can do this, Mac, _his voice sounded in her ear, and it wasn't until she saw the photo of the two of them in Afghanistan on Harm's bookshelf, that she knew what, exactly, she could do.

"Harm, I don't think…" she whispered.

_Yes, you can, Mac. You will. You need me now more than ever, and there's only one way to find me…_

"There's only one way to find him," she whispered to herself, and with a resolve she never knew she'd feel again, she knew what she had to do…what she was _going _to do.

* * *

_December 29__th__, 2005_

_0911 Local_

_JAG Headquarters_

_Falls Church, VA_

Lieutenant Harriet Sims stepped out of the admiral's office clutching a handful of files and a mug of coffee. From the corner of her eye, she saw the bullpen doors open and a woman step inside. She saw enough to know the woman had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but beyond that, she didn't bother with a second look.

It wasn't until she'd set the files down on her desk that she realized the atmosphere in the JAG office had abruptly changed. All ambient chatter had stopped, all clicks and clacks of computer keyboards had ceased, and you couldn't even hear anyone breathe. Slowly, Harriet turned around and followed everyone's eyes to the tall, _pregnant, _woman that now stood in the center of the room.

All the blood drained from her face and she felt dizzy and she desperately reached for a chair to steady herself. The mug of coffee she'd been holding slipped from her grip, shattering on the floor as the hot liquid splashed on her shoes and legs. She didn't even notice the scalding heat of it, so shocked was she.

Harriet Sims had just seen a ghost.

* * *

_End Chapter 25_


	26. Crossroads

_A/N: Another update! Thanks for all the reviews!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 26: Crossroads**

_December 29__th__, 2005_

_0911 Local_

_JAG Headquarters _

_Falls Church, VA_

Mac stepped into the bullpen, her eyes scanning the place where she'd once worked and thrived. Not much had changed; the walls were the same color as before, the desks in the center of the room arranged the same, and yet it seemed oddly foreign. Perhaps it was the people milling about; she didn't recognize any of them, which was probably for the better. Her gaze landed on her former office where Harm's nameplate now hung on the door, her lips curving up at the sight of it briefly before the dark thoughts of her last months there filled her mind. She looked away, noting that she hadn't been noticed yet, and continued her perusal of the room. She didn't know what, exactly she was looking for; she was certain Harm wasn't here, but she continued to take in the sights around her, her skin suddenly starting to prickle as it had so many times before she'd left this place, and she knew…

They were staring again.

It made her angry, furious even, but as the room grew silent, she maintained her calm façade, though she wondered if her heart would soon be pounding out of her chest.

No one moved or spoke for long interminable minutes and Mac nearly jumped when a short gasp followed by the sound of shattering glass finally broke the silence.

_Harriet…_

Mac's dark chocolate eyes met Harriet's shocked blues, and the rush of conflicting emotions made her almost dizzy.

She was sad.

She was hurt…_still. _

And she was _angry…_even more so than she'd been when everyone started staring at her again.

Mac made no move as her eyes remained locked with Harriet's, feeling nothing more as she watched the tears flowing from the younger woman's eyes.

"_Mac?!" _Harriet choked out, and Mac could only nod. "Where…why…how?" the blonde continued, and Mac merely shrugged. She wasn't about to tell anyone where she'd been these last two and a half years.

"Oh, it doesn't matter." Harriet's face broke out in a brilliant smile. "We're so glad you're back!" With that she stepped around the remains of her mug and coffee and in a few quick strides, she was directly in front of Mac, throwing her arms around her and pulling her into a fierce embrace.

Mac couldn't help how she stiffened within Harriet's arms, and Harriet obviously noticed. Her arms dropped down and Mac stepped away from her, shaking her head at Harriet's murmured apology.

"I'd like to see the admiral if he's available," Mac said as if Harriet's embrace never happened, and a tentative voice came from her left.

"I'll tell him you're here, ma'am." It was Jennifer Coates, and her tone was far more respectful than it had been the last time Mac had spoken to her. The petty office disappeared into the anteroom of the admiral's office, and Mac turned her attention back to Harriet.

"You're looking well, ma'am," Harriet said after an awkward silence.

"Thank you," Mac responded. "I know I'm a little late, but congratulations on your daughter." Mac only spoke to fill the awkwardness while she waited for the admiral to make an appearance.

"Oh…thank you." Harriet bit her lip. "We, um, we named her— "

"I know," Mac cut her off, not wanting to hear any more.

"Oh." Harriet's brow furrowed. "Wait, how did you— "

"Mac. It's good to see you." Admiral Chegwidden stepped into the bullpen, Coates by his side. His expression was unreadable as he moved to stand before her with his hand out to greet her. Her arms remained stubbornly by her side, and eventually he let his drop.

"Could I speak to you in your office, sir? In private?" Mac asked, but the admiral just blinked at her.

"What? Oh, yes…yes, of course," he answered after a few moments. He motioned awkwardly toward his office, and the two of them crossed the bullpen together.

With every step she took, Mac felt everyone's eyes boring deeper and deeper into her back.

* * *

Mac and Admiral Chegwidden eyed each other across the admiral's desk, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Mac forced herself not to squirm, but the baby chose that moment to kick her hard under her ribs. She abruptly sat up, her back straightening as her hand went to her abdomen and pressed in. Her little boy kicked again under her hand even harder than before and she winced at the jolt of pain. The way she could feel the little one there already in her pregnancy was yet more proof this was Harm's child; no one other than a child of his could have legs long enough to reach that high.

"Are you okay, Mac?" the admiral asked as she continued to rub away the discomfort. He looked genuinely concerned, yet Mac was still wary; she'd lost so much faith and trust in her former CO that she couldn't help but remain guarded.

"I'm fine…just an extra hard kick." The admiral nodded then looked down at his desk before raising his gaze to hers once again.

"I guess congratulations are in order…when are you due?"

"Thank you…and I'm due the end of March."

The admiral nodded and more awkward silence settled over them, until both of them tried to speak at the same time.

"I need— "

"Is Harm— "

The admiral chuckled uncomfortably and chuckled again when both motioned the other to go first.

"Please, Admiral," Mac finally said, and he nodded in acknowledgment.

"Thank you, Mac—and please, call me AJ. I'm no longer your, well…"

It was Mac's turn to nod then, though they both knew she'd likely never call him AJ now.

"So…"

"So…" Mac repeated, and Admiral Chegwidden cleared his throat.

"You've been gone quite awhile, Mac."

"I have." She wasn't going to make this easy for him.

"May I ask where?"

Mac shrugged. "It's really not important, sir."

She caught the flash of anger in her former CO's eyes and found herself glaring back at him defiantly in a way she never would have before.

"I'd say it's pretty damn important, Mac. We all thought you— "

"Killed myself? Don't think the idea hadn't crossed my mind."

The admiral looked up at her sharply. He looked a little stricken; in fact, he almost seemed distressed by her response. "Mac…"

"Well, I obviously didn't, so let's just forget about it, okay, Admiral?"

Admiral Chegwidden appeared to be a bit taken aback at the harshness of her tone, and Mac blew out a breath, willing herself to be calm. "Really, Admiral, l would like to just forget about that whole time. I'm in a better place now and I want nothing more than to be back there, but certain issues have come up that have forced me to come here again."

"I see," the admiral said as he looked pointedly down at her pregnant belly. "The baby's Harm's isn't it?"

Mac couldn't stop the startled gasp that escaped from her lips.

"He told me he'd found you."

"He did _what?!" _Mac was furious. How could Harm betray her like that?

The admiral held up his hands. "Mac, no, don't blame him…when he left for the carrier, he wanted someone to be able to tell you if something happened to him. He put your information into an envelope and I gave him my word that I wouldn't open it unless something actually _did _happen to him."

Admiral Chegwidden reached into one of his desk drawers and pulled out a small Manila envelope. He held it up for her to see, turning it so she could see it in its entirety. "You see? It's still sealed."

Mac nodded in acknowledgment, still upset that Harm had given Chegwidden that info, but knowing he was right to do it; she would want someone to tell her about Harm if he'd been killed or injured. She only hoped the admiral would be discreet if he needed to make use of the contents of that envelope.

"I also gave him my word that I wouldn't tell anyone else about you."

_As if your word counts for anything now…_

It occurred to Mac that that thought was disingenuous. AJ Chegwidden had never actually lied to her. He had just let her down utterly. Completely.

_Good lord, Mac…didn't we agree when we decided to come here that you would cut the self-pity? _her inner voice admonished her. It was true…she didn't want to wallow in self-pity. She just wanted to talk to Harm and get out of here. "Okay, then. Thank you, admiral. Obviously everyone knows I'm alive and well now, but If, God forbid, something happens to Harm after this, I'd ask you not to give away my location."

The admiral's expression saddened at her request, but he agreed, and once again, silence stretched between them.

Admiral Chegwidden finally grew brave again and broke the silence, bringing attention back to Mac's baby.

"Does Harm know about the baby?"

"No, he doesn't. We, ah, it was over the Fourth of July holiday…"

"When you were together at the farm?"

Mac's eyes widened in surprise. Clearly Harm had given his CO a few more details about their relationship.

"I tried to call him in October, when I thought he'd be back from the _Seahawk, _but he hasn't…he never…" To her extreme dismay, her eyes filled with tears and she could no longer speak.

Her former CO's gaze turned sympathetic. "Yes, his stay there was extended, and then the scope of his mission, uh, broadened."

"Where is he now, sir?" she asked, finding her voice again as she fell back into old patterns of address.

"Classified," he said shortly, and Mac glared at him. Admiral Chegwidden sighed as he ran his hand over his bald pate. "Even I'm not exactly sure where he is from day to day." He looked up at her then and his gaze locked with hers. "But, Mac, I will do what I can to find him and bring him back here for you."

Mac was about to thank him when she heard him mumble something softly.

"God knows we owe it to you, after…"

"After what, sir?" she challenged him, not really sure she wanted this conversation.

The tension rose in the air between them, and as the moments dragged on, she grew more sure that the admiral wouldn't answer, but he surprised her.

"After the deplorable way you were treated after you returned from that cluster of a mission."

Mac's mouth opened and formed an O of surprise. "Sir…you didn't…"

"But I didn't do anything to stop it. I didn't do anything to help you…I know what happened there, and even if physically you were okay, you couldn't have come out of that unscathed."

"I didn't." Her thoughts went to all the nights that were filled with nightmares, the absent memories, the blackouts…the snide words, the scorn, the silent stares, the conversations stopped when she'd enter the room...no, she most certainly hadn't come through all of this unscathed.

"I am sorry about all of that, Mac."

"Um, thank you, sir— "

"And I know everyone out there is sor— "

Hearing about the others at JAG was more than she could handle today. She held up her hand and gave him an abrupt shake of her head. "Please, Admiral."

He stared hard at her a moment before he finally nodded. "Okay, Mac. I'll get started on getting Harm back here…until then, where are you staying?"

Mac hesitated before answering. "You won't tell anyone where— "

"Of course not, but you know, they'll want to…Harriet…"

"I know, sir. I'm just not ready for…if it weren't for…" She motioned to her belly. "I wouldn't be here now."

"Understood."

"Okay, then…" She gave him the details of her hotel, which he wrote down on a small piece of paper and slipped into his pocket.

"I'll call you as soon as I have some information for you."

Mac thanked him and stood up, more than ready to get out of here and retreat to the haven of her hotel room. The admiral stood as well and came around the desk. He held out his hand to her and this time she took it. They shook hands and then Mac tried to pull hers away, but the admiral wouldn't release it.

"Mac…It's…that is, it was good…well, I'm glad you're here."

Mac could think of many places she'd rather be than here, but she merely nodded and thanked him. She turned to leave, but he called her back again.

"Mac, Harm told me that you, well…broke things off."

Mac bit her lip as her eyes filled with tears. "It wasn't…_isn't _fair to him to cut him off from his friends or have him constantly traveling…and I'm sorry, but after I leave here, I have no intention of ever returning."

"And where does that leave Harm?"

Mac thought about the ring she had packed in her suitcase and the note that accompanied it. "He says he won't let me go…"

"He's told me the same, Mac."

Mac smiled slightly at that. "You know, when I couldn't reach him and then he didn't call me back, I thought he'd decided I wasn't worth it, no matter what he'd said before."

"Mac…that man has been in love with you for years. He wouldn't— "

"Sir, he did. And I did too. We've screwed our relationship up so many times…"

"Mac, he's furious with everyone here, including me…and including himself. I sent him out to the _Seahawk _to get him away from everyone, but I couldn't blame him for his attitude. He was fairly distraught about your breakup, but he told me in no uncertain terms that he wouldn't accept it as being permanent. He's not going to screw things up again, and frankly I won't let him do that anyway." He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder that dropped away when she involuntarily stiffened. "Mac, I _will _get him back here. It'll be the last thing I'll do before I retire."

"Retire? You?" She was more surprised than she thought she'd be at such information.

The a nodded. "I've overstayed my welcome. My last day is January 13th. Not sure it's a good sign, though, that it's a Friday." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Friday the thirteenth, huh? Well, best of luck anyway, sir."

"Thank you. I'll be in contact."

Mac thanked him and was about to pull open the door of the admiral's office when another firm kick from Baby Rabb caught her underneath her ribs. She hissed a bit as she tried to massage the pain away.

"Mac? Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," she answered as she continued to run her hand over her belly. "He's just really strong and he has _really _long legs."

The admiral's face broke out in a wide smile. "So, it's a boy then?"

Mac couldn't help herself from smiling back. "Yeah, it is."

"Congratulations, Mac," he said warmly, and with another thank you, Mac left his office.

* * *

Back in the bullpen, Mac hoped she could slip away without being seen, but no such luck.

"Ma'am?"

Mac turned around to face Harriet. "Yes?"

"I—I was wondering…I know there's a lot to talk about…but for now I was wondering if you were free for dinner tonight?"

"Harriet, I…"

"You could meet Jimmy and MacKenzie…and little AJ…ma'am, he really misses you. He still talks about you— "

The mention of her godson caused a jolt of pain to shoot through her and she knew in that she wouldn't be able to leave here without seeing the little boy. She took a deep breath.

"Harriet…I promise I'll visit little AJ before I leave…but not tonight…I'm a little worn out."

Harriet looked disappointed for a moment, but she nodded in apparent understanding. "Of course…" The younger woman's motioned to Mac's stomach. "When are you due?"

At that moment Mac had reached her limit. She needed to get out of there. Ignoring Harriet's inquiry, she said a simple 'goodbye', then turned on her heel and left the bullpen.

As she made her way down the hall to the elevators, she didn't notice Sturgis Turner slip out of the JAG offices behind her. He didn't follow her to the elevators; instead, he took the stairs and waited, then followed her out of the building.

When she left the parking lot in her rental, she was entirely unaware of the blue SUV driven that pulled out behind her, and she drove straight to her hotel, never guessing that Sturgis Turner had kept her in his sights the entire ride.

* * *

_End Chapter 26_


	27. Until You Come Back to Me

A_/N: Another update! A confession: I threw in the part of Sturgis following Mac at the last minute with no idea what, exactly, I was going to do with him! Still don't know exactly what he will do next. This chapter is largely filler—a necessary chapter to keep things moving, but there's nothing really exciting here. :)_

**Gone**

**Chapter 27: Until You Come Back to Me**

_December 29__th__, 2005_

_1101 Local_

_Washington Marriot Georgetown _

_Washington, DC_

Mac stepped into her hotel room with great relief. She felt utterly drained, as if she'd just run two marathons, and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep well into the next morning. Unfortunately, it was barely eleven and she'd been so keyed up about her impending visit to JAG that she hadn't been able to eat anything for breakfast. She would have been happy to wait longer before eating, but Baby Rabb needed some nutrition.

After using the bathroom and changing into a soft pair of sweats, Mac perused the room service menu, finally deciding on some plain grilled chicken with steamed vegetables on the side. She placed her order then sat down on the small couch that graced the room to wait.

And think…

It had been so hard to walk into the building this morning. It had actually taken ten minutes to talk herself into getting out of the car after she'd parked it in the visitor's lot, and she'd nearly had a panic attack in the elevator. That actually steeled her resolve; she was sick of feeling weak and out of control when it came to her feelings about JAG. She'd taken a few deep breaths, squared her shoulders, then marched out of the elevator into the bullpen, all the while drawing on the memories of the strong marine she'd once been. It had worked; she'd remained stoic and outwardly calm while she was there, but now she felt shaky, tired, and even a little nauseated. A headache had started to form behind her eyes and all in all she was completely worn out. As soon as she finished her lunch, she'd crawl into bed for a good long nap.

"As long as you let me sleep, little man." She patted her belly affectionately as she spoke to her son. Her mini-Harm had a tendency to be active whenever she would try to rest. Despite the lost slumber, however, Mac actually adored the feeling of her baby's kicks and rolls. "As long as you stay out of my ribs, sweet boy." She gave her belly another pat before she relaxed into the couch again.

It was a scant few moments later when a knock sounded on her door. Surprised at the efficiency of room service today, she lifted herself off the couch and padded to the door, brushing her bangs off her forehead and pulling her hair from its ponytail before she pulled it open.

It wasn't room service.

* * *

"Hello, Mac."

Mac closed her eyes as the deep timbre of Sturgis Turner's voice reached her ears. She didn't need this right now; aside from a visit with little AJ and a hopefully imminent call from the admiral, she wanted no further contact with the JAG crew.

Obviously, she wasn't that lucky, for here stood yet another former colleague of hers, someone who at one time had actually been a confidant.

She did _not_ want to see him. She did not want to talk to him. Her eyes drifted open and for a brief moment she hoped he had been a figment of her imagination.

_No such luck. _

The naval commander still stood in the doorway, watching her speculatively.

"Hello, Sturgis. Is there something I can do for you?" She made no move to let him in, and Harm's former academy mate could only stand there awkwardly.

"Actually, Mac," he started, his voice neutral, "I was wondering if I could do something for you?"

Mac felt her lips curve up into a bitter smile. "I'm not sure what that would be. Thanks for stopping by." She started to close the door, but his hand shot forward, blocking her.

"Come on, Mac…"

"How did you even know I was here? Did the admiral—wait, did you follow me here, Sturgis?" A guilty light appeared in Sturgis' deep brown eyes, confirming Mac's suspicions. She glared at him until he finally looked away, his eyes settling on her stomach.

"When are you due, Mac?" he asked after an awkward pause. Mac sighed heavily. Was Sturgis really just here for idle conversation?

"Sturgis…I am really not up to visitors today," she said softly, not wanting to discuss her pregnancy with him nor what she thought of him violating her privacy by following her here. "I'd like you to leave."

_"Mac..."_ Sturgis said, somewhat imploringly, and with another heavy sigh, Mac answered his question.

"Last week in March."

Sturgis nodded in acknowledgement, and after another moment of silence, Mac decided he really did need to leave.

"Time to go, Sturgis. Thanks for stopping by." She again started to close the door...

"_No!" _The relative vehemence in his voice caused Mac to step away from the entrance of Harm's apartment, and Sturgis took that opportunity to push his way into the hotel room. He gently closed the door behind him, then leaned against it, his arms folded over his chest.

"Sturgis, what the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to get an explanation about where you've been for the last two years! I think you owe us that."

Rage filled her slender body as she stared her former colleague down. It was Sturgis who looked away first, his shoulders slumping a bit. "Harm took your leaving pretty hard, Mac."

Mac hadn't expected Sturgis to bring up the father of her baby, though he'd been privy to a little secret Mac had kept to herself for years—that she was in love with one Harmon Rabb, Jr. She narrowed her eyes at him, determined not to let him get to her. "Did he? Well, tell him I'm sorry, then." She paused for a moment, her gaze growing steelier by the moment.

"And I _don't _owe you anything, Sturgis."

They both eyed each other again, the silence in the room almost deafening, until finally, Sturgis mumbled something as he looked away.

"What was that, Sturgis?"

The man across from her sighed heavily. "You're right, Mac. You don't owe us anything, but I would like to know where you've been, and I know Harm would want to know too."

Mac was about to open her mouth to answer him when there was another knock at her door and a muffled call of 'room service'. Sturgis moved away from the door and Mac stepped past him to let the waiter in, and once her food had been set down and she'd signed the receipt, the hotel employee left, leaving her alone once again with Sturgis.

"If you don't mind, Sturgis, I'm very tired, and I'd like to eat and then take a nap. If you'll excuse me…"

"Who's the father, Mac?"

"None of your business," was Mac's quick response.

"It's just…I mean, remember what you told me about being in love with Harm? And, well…he told me about your…deal…"

"Oh, he did, did he?" Mac felt a spark of anger directed toward Harm, despite the fact that he had, in fact, come through on said deal. She was surprised that he had obviously been fairly free with information regarding their relationship, and she fleetingly wondered when he'd brought up the baby deal to Sturgis. "Well, I guess that won't happen now, huh?" she answered perversely, and she could feel the irritation emanating from her 'guest'.

"Dammit, Mac! You disappear for years, letting us all believe you'd, well…and then for some reason you come back here, clearly having moved on, and…and…"

"And what? Are you actually judging me, Sturgis? It was miserable here before I left. None of you wanted me around. No one spoke to me with anything resembling kindness, and yet, you judge me for leaving and moving on? For finding someone to have a family with? Are you telling me I deserve to be alone for the rest of my life? What sin did I commit? Come on, Sturgis, you're a pastor's kid—you should know this one—how did I sin so grievously that I should never be happy again?"

Fire flashed in Mac's eyes, making them more amber than brown. For once, her eyes were dry, her fury overriding any of the sadness and pain that she'd carried for so long, and if the saying about looks being able to kill were true, Sturgis would be a smoking heap on the ground.

Sturgis looked a bit alarmed as he reached out a hand toward her and put it on her shoulder. Mac immediately shook it off, and the two of them faced off silently once again. She could see Sturgis swallow hard a couple of times, his expression changing from alarmed to irritated and back to alarmed again. "Mac, please…calm down. You shouldn't get so worked up in your condition."

Mac let out a short, bitter chuckle. "My condition…if you cared about my _condition_ at all, you wouldn't have followed me here. Get out, Sturgis, and so help me, if you tell anyone else where I'm at, I _will _hunt you down. I may not be a marine anymore, but I still can knock you on your sanctimonious ass, pregnant or not."

Sturgis was apparently a slow learner, or maybe he was just being his stubborn self, but he stood his ground.

"Mac, I am sorry about…before, but Harm…he's not going to take this well."

"Oh, for god's sake, Sturgis, you can't even apologize without more judgement. Seriously, get out. Get out before I call hotel security to help me kick your six out of here."

This time, Sturgis, looking somewhat deflated, nodded. He pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, but not before turning toward her one last time for a few parting words.

"Mac, I really am sorry about how you were treated here. I have to know, though…are you going to contact Harm? I'm not going to let him go on thinking you're dead."

Mac inwardly rolled her eyes. _If he only knew…_

"You do what you have to, Sturgis."

With a short nod, Sturgis left her room, leaving Mac to engage the deadbolt and chain on her door. Now utterly exhausted, she collapsed on the sofa, the aroma of her food now nauseating to her. She knew she needed to eat, but one bite of her chicken and her insides wanted to revolt. She drank a little of the ginger ale she'd ordered with her meal, called room service to have the tray removed, and once that was accomplished, she made her way to the bed. She felt crampy and exhausted, her son's movements now actually causing occasional waves of nausea.

She crawled under the covers, and before long she had fallen asleep.

* * *

Sturgis Turner made his way to the elevator. His visit with Mac had left him unsettled and truthfully, he wondered what he'd hoped to accomplish by following her here. It irked him that she had left a trail of pain in her wake, especially for Harm, only to return carrying another man's baby. Yes, he regretted his treatment of her before she left and was glad to know she was still amongst the living, but he had to admit he wasn't all that happy to have her here. Harm hadn't been himself since she'd gone and what would her sudden appearance while obviously with child do to him now?

"_Dammit,"_ Sturgis muttered. He didn't know how he was going to accomplish it, but he had to find Harm and tell him about Mac before the man stumbled upon her himself.

* * *

_1502 Local_

_Washington Marriot Georgetown_

_Washington, DC_

The ringing of the phone on the nightstand awakened Mac a few hours later, and she groaned as she reached to answer it.

"H-hello?" she croaked, now aware that she had a bit of a headache to go along with her tired muscles.

"Mac? Are you okay? Mac?"

It took Mac a moment to realize she was speaking to the admiral. She sat up slowly, biting back a moan, all while Admiral Chegwidden kept calling her name. It was finally his "I'm coming over right now!" that finally woke her up enough to reassure the admiral she was okay.

"I'm sorry, sir…I was asleep…"

"Oh…no, I'm sorry I woke you, Mac. I just wanted to give you an update."

"Oh, yeah…were you—"

"Not yet—at least I haven't spoken to him, but I was able to speak to his CCDR and convinced him that we needed Harm back here. As soon as he returns from his current 'mission', they'll get him back."

_Thank god…_

"Um, that—that's great. How did—I mean, that sounds a little too, um…easy." A short bark of laughter from her former CO came through the line.

"It was, ah, a little more involved than that, but suffice it to say, we'll be getting him back."

Mac sighed with relief. "Thank you, sir. I-I didn't want to leave without seeing him."

"How long are you planning to stay?" the admiral asked, and Mac shrugged despite the fact that the man couldn't see her.

"I haven't really decided…I guess as long as it takes."

"A hotel has to be rather expensive…"

"It is, but it'll be okay—"

"You could stay here—I mean, you could stay at the house." The admiral almost sounded surprised that he'd offered.

"Um…I don't think…uh, thank you, Admiral, but I…"

"Mac…Mac, it's okay, it was just a thought."

Mac still felt a guilt-driven need to explain herself, though she didn't know why. "Sir, it's just…well, I—"

"Mac, there's no need to explain. Really." He was silent for a moment, and then he said something that surprised her.

"How about Harm's place?"

"What?"

"Harm's loft. I've been watching it for him while he's been gone."

"You, sir?" Mac would have expected it to be Sturgis who looked after Harm's apartment. She had done it for him many times in the past, but if both of them had to be gone, the task usually fell to the other naval commander in the office.

"Yeah…I guess he didn't feel comfortable asking anyone else…"

"Because of me."

The admiral didn't deny it. "I suspect so."

More guilt filled Mac's heart. She'd never intended for Harm to be estranged from his colleagues at JAG; that was one of the reasons she'd never wanted to share with Harm just how difficult everything had been for her. "I didn't want that, sir."

"I know, Mac…but don't you think we all deserve it?"

"Sir—"

"Dammit, Mac! We've already talked about everyone else's behavior; let's talk about mine. I basically left you for dead down there!"

"Sir, please—" _Please don't say anything more. _Mac's eyes grew wet and her hands started to shake as the admiral continued his tirade.

I knew exactly how that mission would go. Nothing Webb has ever touched has ever gone off without a hitch, and this mission…I had a bad feeling from the start. But I didn't want to make waves—not after Lindsey's audit, Singer's death and Harm's arrest. When you missed your check-ins, I should have been in Kershaw's office, demanding to know what was going on. I should have been there with Harm…but I left you for dead!"

"Please…please, Admiral…stop," she practically begged, this time unable to draw on her marine strength. There were too many images in her mind: Sadik's torture of Webb, Webb's screams…the utter terror of knowing she was going to die…or would have if Harm hadn't saved her, followed by the near-complete destruction of their friendship and their disastrous return to JAG.

Mac didn't realize her tears had turned into sobs until the admiral's tone changed in her ear. His words went from angry to soothing and Mac did her best to regain control.

"I'm sorry, Mac…Mac, honey…shh, don't cry. I'm sorry." The admiral sounded rather fatherly, which was how she'd always thought of him, or had until he'd forbidden anyone from visiting Harm in the brig.

"I-I'm sorry, sir…"

"No, Mac…don't be. This is all on us."

"N-not everything, sir. I made the choices that led me to Paraguay and everywhere since." She sniffled as she wiped her tears on her sleeve. Admiral Chegwidden gave her a few more moments to get herself under control, and then he once again offered her the use of Harm's apartment.

"I really don't think he'd mind, Mac."

Mac considered it; she'd felt good there yesterday when she'd "visited," and it really would save her a few bucks. "Okay, Admiral. I will."

"Great. I'll get the water turned back on and meet you there tomorrow morning to let you in if that's okay?"

Mac blushed despite herself. "You don't have to do that, sir. I have a key. Used it yesterday."

"Well, I'll just be there to make sure everything is in working order then." Mac shook her head. She didn't feel quite so bad about having to interact with AJ Chegwidden now, but seeing him in person would certainly be different than speaking to him on the phone. She suspected, however, that he wouldn't just take her word for it that she'd be okay.

"Okay, sure, admiral. That will be…that will be fine."

"Alright then, say, 0900?"

"Yeah, that will work. 0900."

"Great, see you then…and Mac, is there anything I can get for you?"

"Nothing I can think of, sir."

"Maaac…" Mac's lips turned up at the corners. Admiral Chegwidden sounded a lot like Harm when he said her name like that.

"Sir, I really don't need anything—"

"No, that's not it, Mac."

"Then what—"

"Stop calling me 'sir' or 'Admiral'. It's AJ."

"Okay, AJ."

"Alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well."

"Well, considering it isn't much past three, I should probably get up and do something." _Like call Mary._

"Mac, I can tell you're tired," AJ said with more fatherly concern. He wasn't wrong; she was still tired, almost mind-numbingly so, but it seemed fairly pathetic to sleep the rest of the day despite her earlier desire to. Besides that, she still needed to eat something.

"I'll go to bed early, then."

"Yes, please do. Goodnight, Mac."

"Goodnight, Ad—um, AJ."

The call disconnected and Mac set the receiver back in its cradle. She scooted up in bed until her back was against the faux headboard on the wall, noting that her son now seemed to be awakening as well. She felt a few fairly firm kicks, though he kindly refrained from kicking her under the ribs this time, and she let herself enjoy them awhile before she reached for the TV remote. She flipped on the TV and turned it to ZNN, wondering if Harm were near any of the places featured. She rather hoped not; she hoped he was already on a plane back to her, though she knew that was unlikely.

For a moment, she had a twinge of fear that Harm would resent her for pulling him out of the fray. Yes, war could be hell, but when you believed in what you were doing, it was still an honor and a privilege to serve—and in Harm's case, getting to fly would be the icing on the cake. _Please don't hate me for this, Harm…_

_I could never hate you, Mac…I'll see you soon…_

Mac heard Harm's voice in her head as clear as if he were right there with her. It was probably just a figment of her imagination, but it gave her comfort, and after a quick snack from the minibar, she settled in for another nap.

* * *

_December 30__th__, 2005_

_0034 Local_

_Afghanistan, exact location classified _

The sleeping naval commander rolled over in his bed, a smile forming on his face. Dreams of a certain brunette filled his mind once again and they made his time here easier. Easier, that is, when he was asleep. When he would awaken, bereft of her presence, his longing for her would be a tangible, painful thing, and he prayed each day that he was waking up to his final morning here.

A few moments later, the smile on Harm's face became a concerned frown.

_Mac? _

_Don't hate me…_

_Never, baby…_

_I could never hate you…_

_I'll see you soon…_

Harm rolled over in his cot once again, the frown on his face once again replaced by a smile.

_End Chapter 27_


	28. True Colors

_A/N: Another update. Thank you all for the reviews!_

**Gone**

**Chapter 28: True Colors**

_December 30__th__, 2005_

_0859 Local_

_Harm's Apartment_

_North of Union Station_

Mac stepped off the elevator into the dark hall of Harm's floor, questioning her decision to take the ancient, rickety lift. It lurched and groaned the entire way up and frankly Mac was glad she'd made it up here alive. From here on out, it was back to the stairs, whether she was carrying a suitcase or groceries or whatever. When she reached Harm's door, she saw that it was slightly ajar, so she knocked and pushed it open. "Admiral?" she called and couldn't help the smile that teased at the corners of her mouth when the admiral shouted back, "It's AJ!" as he appeared from Harm's bedroom.

"Sorry, AJ," Mac said, setting her suitcase down on the floor beside her. "Old habits, you know…"

AJ nodded as he came closer to her and surveyed the loft. Everything appeared to be in order, not that she'd expected it otherwise given she'd been here so recently, and her former CO seemed satisfied.

"Water's back on, appliances plugged in…and I took the liberty of picking up a few groceries for you. The cold stuff is still in a cool—_what?" _

Mac gaped at the admiral. "Sir—I mean, AJ, you didn't have to…I just didn't expect you to—"

"Go shopping? I had to go for myself anyway, so I thought—oh, Jesus, Mac, don't cry! It's just a little milk and cheese and—"

Mac was embarrassed by the tears that were now slipping down her cheeks. She hadn't expected Admiral Chegwidden to do something so kindly domestic for her…indeed, she hadn't expected much of anything, and it touched her. But then again, she supposed he felt guilty…and she didn't want his guilt…

"Sir—"

"AJ."

"Sorry—AJ, thank you, but you really didn't have to…I can take care of myself…"

"I know you can, Mac. I just didn't want you to have to." AJ seemed sincere, but Mac wanted to still clarify things.

"AJ, really, you don't need to feel like you have to…to look after me. You've already apologized—"

AJ Chegwidden seemed almost indignant. "Is that what you think this is about? I just wanted to do something to—" And then his shoulders suddenly slumped. "Well, I suppose I do want to make up for things…but I know I can't, not really…I mean, I know a bag of carrots and a gallon of milk doesn't make up for—for Paraguay, but dammit, Mac, I—"

Mac reached out and put her hand on the admiral's arm. "Adm—AJ, please…it's okay. Thank you for the groceries. I really do appreciate it and I'm glad I don't have to go out right away for things. It's a little overwhelming…being in a big city again. Mont—I mean, where I live now, it-it's different. Driving around here is a bit exhausting. So, thank you, AJ."

AJ was silent for a moment as his intent gaze caused Mac to squirm a bit. "Well, anything I can do to help, especially in your condition, just call. Anytime, okay?"

Mac almost snorted. "My condition? You too? Lord, I'm just pregnant, not ill."

"I know that, Mac, but—wait, what do you mean, 'you too?' Did someone else—"

"Sturgis…he followed me to my hotel yesterday."

The admiral's expression turned into one of anger. "He did what? Researching for a case, my ass. I'll deal with that, Mac. I'm sorry."

"No, AJ, don't say anything. Please. He left when I asked him to." _Well, after I asked him to twice, but that's still probably pretty good for Sturgis. _

"But still, he should have…"

"Really, AJ. It's okay. I mean, he's convinced I betrayed Harm by running off and getting pregnant by some other guy, which, honestly, I had every right to do—but I didn't feel the need to explain it to him. He can think what he wants."

AJ still looked like he wanted to have words with his subordinate, but eventually he nodded. "Okay, Mac. Have it your way. You will tell me, of course, if he bothers you again?" Mac nodded. "Good."

The two stood silently together for a few more moments before the admiral squared his shoulders. "Well, I suppose I should go and let you get settled. I'll just take your bag into the bedroom and—"

"I can still carry my own bags, sir, uh, AJ."

AJ rolled his eyes. "Would you just let me be a gentleman, Mac? Besides it's nothing I wouldn't or haven't done for Francesca—"

"Francesca had a baby?" Mac asked, another smile forming unwittingly on her face. AJ was suddenly beaming with pride.

"Two, actually. Twins. A boy and a girl. Cosimo and Carolena."

"That's wonderful, AJ. Congratulations! Tell her I said—um, no, don't do that…well, I suppose it doesn't matter if she—"

AJ sobered again. "Mac, I promise I won't invade your privacy, nor will I let anyone else."

Mac searched the man's eyes. "Okay," she said eventually. "And please…do give Francesca my best wishes. Really."

AJ nodded. "I will." He looked about the room one more time, then turned toward her and held out his hand. This time she took it and he covered it with his other hand as well. "Well, make yourself comfortable. I'll just take care of this—" He let go of her and picked up her bag. "And then I'll get out of your hair."

Mac gave him a nod and a few minutes later, she was alone again. _Well, not entirely…_she thought to herself as her child made his presence known again. She gave her belly a pat and was about to go upstairs and unpack when a knock sounded at the door.

_Good lord, they found me already? _she groused to herself. A look through the peephole revealed it was the admiral once again.

"Back again, AJ?" she asked, thinking the admiral looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Uh, I forgot to mention…I know tomorrow is New Year's Eve…"

"AJ, I'm definitely not up for a party," she was quick to inform him.

"Right…no, no…not that…it's about Harriet…"

Now it was Mac's turn to look uncomfortable. "What—what about her, sir?" she whispered, falling back once again on old forms of address.

"She was wondering if you'd like to come over to their house for dinner tomorrow night to see little AJ and meet the two younger children. I told her I would ask you."

Mac bit her lip. She longed to see little AJ again and meet Jimmy. She'd like to meet their baby girl too, but the thought of the baby's name made her heart clench and she didn't know how she'd react when little MacKenzie Jane was staring her in the face.

"I…um, what time?"

"She said around 1800 but told me to tell you that they could make any time work, whatever you felt comfortable with."

Mac started to nod, but then abruptly started to shake her head.

"I—I…I don't think I can do this. Tell her…tell her I'm s-sorry." Mac started to choke up as her eyes filled with tears.

_Where's your inner marine now, Mac? _her inner voice taunted. Apparently, her bravado of yesterday had already reached its expiration date.

"Mac…"

"I'm sorry. I just…it's too h-hard." Now she was really crying, and she turned away from the admiral in embarrassment. It wasn't long, however, before the she felt his hands on her shoulders.

"Mac, I know you want to see little AJ." Mac nodded tearfully.

"And Jimmy?" Mac nodded again.

"And the baby? Mac, I tell you…MacKenzie's a little doll."

"I'm s-sure sh-she is." Mac tried to brush her tears aside, but they were quickly replaced by those still falling from her eyes. "I just—"

"Just, what?" the admiral eventually asked when she didn't say anything more for several moments.

"Just…why, Admiral? Why did they name her…"

"After you?" There was another nod from Mac.

"Because…because they loved you and missed you and wanted to honor your memory."

"But, _why?" _she asked despairingly. She felt herself being turned around, the admiral's strong arms wrapping her in an unexpected, fatherly embrace.

"Mac, if you only knew how sorry they are…how sorry we all are…"

"Those are just words."

"But they aren't any less true."

"Are they, though? True? If I hadn't left…if you didn't all think I'd…killed myself…nothing would have changed. I'd still be the office pariah. It's just that now, you all feel guilty."

"Hell yes, we feel guilty!" Mac jumped at the admiral's vehemence, and she pulled away from him, her eyes flashing.

"I don't want your guilt…or your pity!"

"Mac, for god's sake, I don't pity you!" AJ began to pace around the room, making a couple of passes by Mac before he faced her again. "I don't pity you," he repeated. "I don't. But I do deeply regret my actions both before and after Paraguay, and I know Harriet, Bud, Harm, and Sturgis do as well. I only wish it hadn't taken you leaving for us to understand how awful and uncalled for our behavior was.

"Mac, I watched you suffer for months after Paraguay. I could tell you weren't sleeping; you weren't eating. As your CO, it was my job to ensure my people's well-being, and I failed. You may not want my guilt, but it's there, and it's warranted. JAG was a family before you left, and after…" The admiral shrugged, his expression full of melancholy and regret.

Mac could only stare at him; even during the 'good' times at JAG, she wouldn't have expected AJ Chegwidden to be so open about the emotional aspects of life in the military. "Sir—"

"Dammit, Mac, it's AJ!" He threw up his hands in frustration, and the two just eyed each other for several more moments.

"I should go," AJ finally said. "Mac, I wouldn't blame you for not forgiving me or any of the rest of us, and I have no right to ask this, but please, give us a chance to make up for everything."

Mac bit her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I just…I want to…but…"

"You don't trust us."

She shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry."

It was AJ's turn to shake his head. "Don't be…" He stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Mac. And I'll tell Harriet that—"

"Six will be fine."

"What?"

Mac sighed. "I'll go to Bud and Harriet's. I really do want to see little AJ…and neither he, nor his brother and sister have anything to do with what's gone on in the last few years. I've…I've really missed him."

AJ smiled gently. "Good. I'll let Harriet know."

"Thank you, sir."

AJ rolled his eyes. "You're welcome." He surprised her by pulling her in for another embrace. "Take care, Mac."

With that, he let her go, leaving her once again alone amongst Harm's possessions, while his son moved inside her womb.

* * *

_December 31st, 2005_

_1759 Local_

_Roberts' Residence_

_Reston, VA_

"Mac, come in, come in," Harriet stepped aside to let Mac step into the once familiar home. Mac noticed the wallpaper had changed to a tasteful muted tan with white trim, and the carpeting in the front hall was now a cherry laminate.

"I, um, like what you've done here, Harriet." Mac said hesitantly. She glanced around her, looking for some sight of her godson so he could make this whole gathering less awkward.

"Thank you, ma'am—uh, Mac. Bud never liked the wallpaper and I hated trying to keep the carpet clean—high traffic area, you know, and once we got started, well…you'll have to see the dining room. I hope you still like chicken parmesan." Harriet moved and spoke with a nervous energy as she herded Mac down the hall. They were obviously both nervous about this meeting outside of the professional offices of JAG. She didn't let Mac answer, keeping up her steady chapter as they entered the living room.

"So, Mac, a baby! Who—I mean, do you know what you're…you're…"

"A boy. Due on March 27th," she answered Harriet's next question before the other woman could ask it.

"Oh, wonderful—"

"Hi, Mac," Bud's voice interrupted Harriet's frenetic chatter as he rose from a comfortable-looking easy chair. He held out his hand to her and after a slight hesitation, she gave hers to him. Bud's grip was firm and his smile was warm. He had that familiar glint of guilt in his eye, but he seemed less troubled and nervous.

"I'm sorry I missed you at JAG the other day. Harriet told me about the baby. Congratulations, ma'am." He chuckled sheepishly. "I mean, Mac."

"Thank you," she responded quietly. She was about to tell him she liked the changes in the house as well, when the gurgle of a baby caught her attention. The gurgle turned into a tiny wail, and with an 'excuse me', Bud went over to a portable crib in the far corner and lifted a little baby into his arms. She looked petite for her six months of life and, as the admiral had said, she was a doll. She had wispy white-blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a little bow of a mouth that was already curving into a little smile when she spotted Mac. Amazingly, the little girl held out her arms to Mac when Bud brought her close, and Mac automatically caught the sweet baby up in her embrace.

"So, this is MacKenzie," Mac whispered, awed in spite of herself at the tiny creature. "She's beautiful, Bud." Mac turned toward Harriet. "She looks just like you, Harriet," she continued, relieved at the distraction that the baby provided. She chose not to think too deeply about the child's name as the baby buried her perfect little fingers in Mac's dark chestnut hair.

"Thank you, Mac," Harriet answered with a smile. She was about to say something else when a whirlwind of energy burst into the room.

"Auntie Mac! Auntie Mac," little AJ shouted as he threw his arms around her. Bud quickly plucked MacKenzie from Mac's arms so his former superior officer could hug AJ back. Mac couldn't hold back her tears as she knelt down and hugged the little boy again.

"Oh, AJ, it's so good to see you. I missed you!" she said brightly, trying to surreptitiously brush her tears aside.

"I missed you too, Auntie Mac!" Mac marveled at the boy's excitement at seeing her even after such a long absence from his life. It was as if she'd just seen him last week rather than over two years ago. The thought that Bud and Harriet had continued to speak of her to their son rose up in her mind and she quickly brushed it aside, instead letting little AJ lead her to the dining room behind his parents.

"Here, let me help you with that, Harriet," Mac stood up from her chair and began picking up dinner plates from the table.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Mac. I've got this. You should just go relax in the living. Bud will be down from putting Jimmy to bed soon—I'll bring us all out some tea." Harriet was still obviously nervous, and Mac sensed the other woman wanted to say more than just the superficial pleasantries she'd been uttering thus far. There was a part of Mac that just wanted to get this over with—the awkward conversation regarding Mac's disappearance and the JAG personnel's role in it. The other part wanted to just go play Uno in the living room with AJ.

"Oh, it's no big deal, Harriet. We'll get this done faster if we do it together." She picked up another plate and looked up at Harriet, frowning when she saw Harriet's expression.

"And then you'll be able to leave sooner." Harriet's words were said with a bitter tinge, and Mac's mouth dropped open in surprise. The meal they'd just shared was tasty and of course a little bit awkward, but it had still been fairly friendly. Mac felt a flash of anger, but it was overshadowed by the rush of old insecurities that had nagged her since she'd returned from Paraguay.

"N-no, Harriet," Mac stammered, thinking she should have listened to her initial inclination not to come here.

"How could you, Mac? How could you leave us all like that?!"

Mac slowly set the dishes back down on the table, the shaking of her hands causing the china to clink together. She gaped at Harriet, stunned at the rancor in the woman's tone. "I did what I had to—"

"No, you were selfish. You let us—"

"I'll be going. Tell little AJ I goodbye for me," Mac said with forced calm, then turned on her heel and left the dining room. She found her purse on the hall table and pulled out her keys, and without even grabbing her coat from the hall closet where Harriet had stashed it, she pulled open the front door. A blast of cold air hit her and, ignoring Bud's concerned 'Mac' as he came down the stairs, she stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind her even as little AJ called after her. Her tears nearly froze on her face, and the last thing she heard before the door closed completely was Bud's angry questioning of his wife.

* * *

_End Chapter 28_

* * *

_A/N 2: For some reason I can't help myself—Harriet keeps coming off as just a wench! I normally like Harriet! _


	29. Witness

_A/N: Here is Chapter 29! I'm not sure I like where it ended, but the alternative was a never-ending chapter and it's already a bit long. Hmmm…how 'bout Harriet in that last chapter? I'm still surprised by her and I'm not sure I can redeem her. And I liked Harriet!_

_A/N 2: This chapter is for acheon who, despite disappointment with chapter 28, still seems to want more. I shall endeavor to remained focused, and thank you for ALL your reviews. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 29: Witness**

_December 31__st__, 2005_

_2000 Local_

_Harm's Apartment_

_North of Union Station_

Mac shivered the entire ride back to Harm's apartment, the cold settling deep in her bones despite the heat blasting from the vents of her rental. As soon as she pulled into Harm's parking spot, the tears she'd squelched before began to flow again and she swiped at them furiously with her shaking hand.

_Harm, please, please, please come back. I need you! _her mind screamed as she slid out of the car. She slammed the door behind her, the icy winter wind that rippled through her clothing increasing her shivering exponentially as she rushed to the door of Harm's building. At one point, her foot slid on a small patch of ice and she barely caught herself from falling down on the cold concrete. She slowed her pace then, her steps more deliberate and careful than they were before, and by the time she reached the door to the building, her fingers were so cold that she dropped the keys twice before she could let herself in. She bypassed the elevator in favor of the stairs, her tears flowing faster with each plant of her foot as she climbed.

It was warmer in the stairwell than it had been outside, but it still wasn't enough to stop the shaking of her body nor the chattering of her teeth and all she wanted to do was curl up in Harm's bed, letting the blankets that still smelled like him comfort her as she cried it out. Once that was accomplished, she planned to book the next flight back to Montana. AJ could tell Harm to find her there because there was no way she could stay in this town another minute.

With great relief, Mac emerged from the stairwell and was soon sliding her key into the lock on Harm's door. She pushed it open, immediately noting that the temperature was as frigid in the loft as it was in the hall. She remembered then that she turned the heat down before she left earlier, just as Harm used to do. Given she didn't have his express permission to be here, she at least wanted to keep things the way he liked it.

Of course, that laudable goal didn't seem so laudable now as she rushed over to the thermostat and adjusted it, turning it up just a little higher than she normally would. Wishing she'd retrieved her coat from the Roberts' entryway closet, she grabbed Harm's alpaca wool blanket off the back of his couch and wrapped it around herself, wondering when Harm's ancient furnace would get this place warm. Seconds later, she heard it kick on, and was about to retreat to the bedroom when her phone rang. She thought about ignoring it; her teeth were still chattering with the cold and the tears were still flowing freely down her face but, musing it may be Harm, she pulled it from her purse.

"H-Hello?" She didn't bother to check the caller ID; other than the normal doctor and veterinarian offices, only three people had this number.

"Mac?"

"A-A-Admiral?" Mac heard a long-suffering sigh, and knew it was because she'd referred to him by his rank. It really was a habit; even two years later, military protocol was still ingrained in her.

"Bud called me. Are you okay?" The admiral sounded sincerely concerned, which only sparked more tears and not a little surprise. "Mac?" her former CO called again when she didn't answer.

"Y-yes. I-I'm just c-cold." If anything, the shivering was getting worse, despite the continued airflow from the heater.

"I also have some news about Harm."

_Please, please let him be on his way back._

"Mac…" Something in his tone made her stomach flip and her shaking increase.

"They can't find him…"

"_No…" _ She felt faint and nauseated all at once. Her world seemed to tip sideways on her, and she feared she was going to pass out. _No! Not Harm. Not now!_

"Mac? Mac? Talk to me." AJ's tone had grown more insistent, but Mac found she couldn't get any more words out as she stumbled toward the couch. She had just lowered herself down on it when AJ called her name again, and she started with a yelp.

"_Mac?!" _The admiral was louder this time, and Mac jumped again.

"I-I just had to…I needed to sit down…" She mumbled, then dropped the phone and buried her head in her hands. The room was spinning faster around her, and she did her best to take deep, slow breaths. At this point, her shaking had nothing to do with being cold and she was afraid she'd manage to shake herself apart. Dimly, she could hear AJ still shouting, only making out his "I'm coming over!" before the call disconnected.

Mac curled up on the couch and cried.

* * *

AJ raced toward Harm's apartment. He cursed himself for saying anything to Mac about Harm over the phone; yes, Harm was out of communication, but at this point, there was no reason to think that he was in any kind of trouble.

"Dammit, dammit, _dammit!" _AJ shouted as he pounded on his steering wheel. He wove in and out of traffic, cursing every driver that dared to try and get ahead of him, and finally, he arrived at Harm's loft. Just as he was about to get out of his vehicle, his phone rang. He yanked it from his belt with a few choice expletives before answering it.

"Chegwidden!" he said in clipped tones, his shoulders slumping in relief when the caller told him the news he had been waiting for.

"Thank God—he's on the next flight out, then? Good. Keep me posted." He flipped his phone shut and then raced into the building and up the stairs. He was soon knocking on Harm's door, but to his ever-increasing concern, Mac didn't answer. With a looming sense of foreboding, he knocked again…and again. He finally pulled out his copy of Harm's key and had just slid it into the lock when the doorknob was abruptly pulled from his grasp. He looked up to see Mac standing in front of him, looking slightly frantic and he was relieved that despite how wretched he knew her evening had gone, he at least he had good news to tell her…

AJ started to smile, but then Mac suddenly bent forward and clutched at her stomach. "Mac?" He quickly stepped forward and put his arm around her. "Let's get you to a chair or something." He led her to the couch and helped her sit down, then sat on the coffee table in front of her. She was breathing somewhat quickly, and he could have cheerfully shot himself at this moment for putting her in this distress. If he'd just kept his mouth shut on the phone…

"Mac…" he reached out and took her delicate hand in his, shocked at how icy it felt.

"AJ," she panted. "H-Harm?" Her other hand covered her belly again, and he could see her grimace in what looked like pain.

"Mac? What's going on. Are you—" He was interrupted by Mac's whimper, and that was all it took for him to stand up and tell her he was taking her to a hospital. It unnerved him a bit when she didn't protest; he could still see the old marine in her after all. It made him suspect things were even more serious than they appeared at the moment. "Contractions?" he asked as he helped her on with her coat while she grimaced again.

"I-I think so. They started just after you hung up. AJ, I can't be in labor…it's too early."

AJ tried to be calming. "Mac, we don't know anything yet. Let's just get you to the hospital and let them check you out."

"I can't lose both of them, AJ!" She was crying again now, and AJ was furious with himself for not telling her the good news. He grabbed her purse for her and then shepherded her out of the apartment and down the hall toward the rickety old elevator.

"Mac…no…you aren't going to lose them. Harm—they found Harm," he explained as they waited for the elevator to arrive. "He's on his way back, hon. It'll be a few hours, but he's coming back to you."

Mac really broke down then, crying into her hands as AJ guided her into the old lift. He reached over to stroke her hair. "It's going to be okay, Mac. I'll take care of you until he gets here, okay?" Mac nodded, and as he wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders, AJ could only hope his words would be proven true.

* * *

_2334 Local_

_Capitol Hill Medical Center_

_Washington, DC_

AJ watched Mac's sleeping form as he listened to the galloping of her baby's heartbeat. The volume was down low, and the nurse would have turned it down further, but Mac found it comforting. She had definitely been having contractions when they'd arrived here, but after some IV fluids and a shot of something to slow them down, they'd pretty much stopped. She'd then only had a couple since they'd gotten her settled in this room, much to everyone's relief.

It had been a bit awkward to sit with Mac while the doctor went over the plan for the time being. He hadn't enjoyed hearing about dilating cervixes, bladder infections, preterm labor and the like when it involved his ex-wife, much less someone he thought of as a second daughter, but because she'd asked him to stay, he stayed. The way she'd looked at him with her huge doe eyes wet with tears and utterly filled with fear made him sit his rear admiral's rear end down and hold her hand throughout the on-call obstetrician's discussion. It was the least he could do for her and for Harm as well. He'd of course not been present during the exam, thank god, but it sounded like she was 'slightly' dilated, had the start of an infection, and would be receiving a shot of steroids to help mature the baby's lungs should she end up delivering early. She'd receive another steroid dose in twenty-four hours and would likely be here at least a couple of nights. The medication she'd received for the contractions combined with the steroid had made her a little jittery, but the pills they'd given her to help her sleep seemed to be working. She'd fought taking them, but the doctor assured her that they were non-addictive and safe for baby, and she'd finally agreed.

Now that things were calmer, AJ had time to reflect on the events of the evening. As he'd sat down to his own meal, he'd wondered how Mac's dinner at the Roberts' was going. When Bud had called him later and told him what had happened, AJ was rather furious. He was surprised too; Harriet had seemed devastated when they'd started to believe Mac had killed herself and had seemed to regret her part in Mac's departure, so how could she have said such horrible things now? Bud had apologized profusely on his wife's behalf, despite AJ not being the one that needed to hear it, but he'd agreed to pass the information on to Mac. Bud had sounded rather perturbed by Harriet's behavior and, figuring AJ knew how to contact Mac, he'd asked his CO to check on her.

Thank goodness he had.

At that moment, Mac stirred in her sleep, mumbling something unintelligible. AJ laid a soothing hand on her shoulder as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with his other hand. She seemed to tense for a moment, but then she sighed, once again falling into a deep slumber. He drew his hand back and glanced at the monitors, noting with relief that Mac still didn't appear to be having any significant contractions. He watched Mac for a few more minutes before he got up to use the bathroom, planning on calling to get a better idea of Harm's ETA, and then he planned to resume his vigil over Mac.

AJ prayed that everything would stay calm here, for Harm would likely kill them all if anything happened to Mac or the baby…the baby he didn't even know he was expecting yet.

And frankly, AJ wouldn't blame him.

* * *

_2359 Local_

_JAG Headquarters_

_Falls Church, VA_

Commander Sturgis Turner should have been ringing in the new year with a lounge singer named Christina he'd met six months before, but just yesterday she'd called and told him she preferred to spend time with her pianist. Rather than wallow at home, Sturgis had elected to get a head start on his pending cases. The man was trying not to be bitter, but of late, he hadn't had any sustained luck with women or his friends. He and Bud were on the outs, Bud having dropped the ball while defending him on charges of incompetence, and it went without saying that he and Harm were estranged, given the situation with the no-longer-missing Mac. Sturgis still would have called Harm immediately and told him about Mac's return, but Harm's current mission wasn't allowing for that.

A few files later, Sturgis pulled out his cellphone, and on a whim, he dialed Harm's number. He listened to it ring a few times and was about to hang up, but Harm surprised him by answering.

"_Rabb."_ His voice was a bit clipped, but Sturgis paid it no mind. Harm had apparently returned to civilization, and now he could give his former academy mate a heads up about Mac and her pregnancy.

"_What did you need, Sturgis?"_ Harm continued impatiently. _"I'm about to board a plane to Andrews." _

"You're on your way back?" _Excellent timing. _

"_Yeah, I am. Look, I'll call you when I'm back in town…after I've gotten some sleep, ok?" _

"Yeah, that'll be—wait, when will you get to Andrews?" Sturgis heard Harm sigh over the line, but he answered, and Sturgis was quick to offer him a ride. Harm accepted after a brief hesitation, and Sturgis hung up, relieved that he'd be able to speak to Harm before anyone else did.

* * *

_January 1__st__, 2006_

_0011 Eastern Standard Time_

_Harm's Flight to DC_

Harm settled into his seat uneasily, convinced more than ever that Mac needed him. He hadn't been told much after he'd returned from a patrol, just that he was being recalled to Washington, but he didn't especially care; the sooner he returned to the States, the sooner he could get to Mac, whether she wanted him to or not.

Harm had a good five-hour flight ahead of him, most likely enough time for him to regret letting Sturgis pick him up. Sturgis rarely did things without a reason and he wasn't prone to random acts of minor kindnesses. _Dammit. _He should have told him he already had a ride. Catching a cab or hitchhiking would have been better. Expecting he'd need all the strength he could gather, Harm lay back in his seat and did his best to doze off.

* * *

_0114 Local_

_Capitol Hill Medical Center_

_Washington, DC_

"Harm?" Mac startled awake, confused for a moment about her whereabouts. Seconds later, it all came back to her, and she lay back with a sigh, blinking at the sudden sting in her eyes.

"You okay, Samantha?" An older nurse now stood by her bed, and Mac surmised that she was here to check her vitals, her presence likely being the cause of her wakening.

"Yeah…I'm fine, um…"

"Noreen. Well, it looks like you've got a little fever now. Any pain? Feeling any contractions?"

Mac shook her head. She was achy and didn't feel all that well, but she couldn't say she was in pain, nor had she noticed any contractions.

"That's good. I'll bring you some Tylenol® for the fever as soon as I get done taking your vitals, okay?"

Mac nodded silently and let Noreen do her duty, and then she was left alone with AJ. AJ has awakened with the arrival of the nurse as well, and now Mac could feel his eyes on her.

"What, AJ?" she asked tiredly, wanting nothing more than to drift back into slumber, but the edgy feeling was back, and she suspected she'd be up the rest of the night.

"Nothing…it's just…I'm not going to get used to calling you Samantha."

The corners of Mac's lips curved up into a slight smile. "Then don't. Mac is fine, AJ. It's just that all my insurance information is under Samantha O'Hara. I'll admit that the details on how I changed my identity are a little shady, I'm legally Samantha Rae O'Hara for all intents and purposes." She turned her head toward him a little, a mischievous smile playing across her lips. "Still the same birthday, though." She gave him a wink, and AJ chuckled.

"I'll remember that, Mac."

They were then both quiet for a moment, and then Mac thought she'd better let AJ off the hook. As much as she didn't want to be alone here, she couldn't expect an admiral who wasn't family to stay at her side all night.

"AJ, you really don't have to stay here. I'll be okay," she told him softly. She could already see him shaking his head, but before she could say anything more, he firmly told her he was staying, and that was that.

"Okay, AJ. Thanks."

There was another long stretch of silence, and then she heard the admiral shift in his seat. "So…" he said after a few beats. "Montana?"

"Yeah," she answered. "I needed something completely different.

"Well, Montana certainly is that. It's pretty there."

"It's _beautiful," _she corrected. It was definitely that, and she found she missed it terribly. She also missed her job, Mary, and especially Nicodemus. Mary assured her that her cat was doing fine, but her employer and friend couldn't lie and say Nic didn't miss her.

To Mac's dismay, her eyes filled with tears as she thought about her pet and her home, and she couldn't hide her sniffle.

"Mac? What's wrong?"

She sniffed again. "I miss it." More tears fell, and Mac was heartily embarrassed. "I'm sorry, sir."

"For what?" AJ asked, apparently choosing to ignore the 'sir.'

"Oh, _this," _she said, motioning to her tears. "I've been such a weepy mess…"

"Well, you are pregnant…if memory serves, pregnant women are often more emotional than they normally are, aren't they?

"Oh, it's been going on a lot longer than that," she answered. "Ever since I got back from…_there." _She trusted that AJ knew she was referring to Paraguay. "But that, I guess, would be understandable. Once I left here…well, I thought I'd get better. I didn't."

She sensed AJ didn't know what to say to that, so she decided to let him off the hook. "Anyway…did you know I have a cat now?"

If AJ was a little thrown by her abrupt change of subject, he didn't show it. "No, I didn't know that."

"His name is Nic…Nicodemus…"

* * *

AJ chuckled to himself. Mac was now sleeping, but before she'd drifted off again, she'd entertained him with stories of how Nic had tormented Harm, and AJ decided he'd like to meet this creature that had bested his chief of staff. Mac had also told him about her job there and he could tell she loved it. That surprised him; it was rather hard for him to believe that someone who was a former Lt. Colonel in the marines, a woman who was used to danger—indeed, sometimes he'd believed she'd deliberately sought it out, could be happy working in a little shop in a small mountain town near a ski resort. He supposed, however, the answer to that lay in what she'd told him just before she'd fallen back to sleep, when exhaustion loosened her lips.

"_AJ…I had to go…being here with everyone angry at me…missing Harm…fighting with my own demons…my mind never shut up…it was so loud…it wouldn't let me sleep…I had to go, AJ. I had to be in a place where everything could just be silent…"_

She'd surrendered to her fatigue then, leaving AJ to contemplate everything that had happened since he'd allowed her to go on that fool's mission to Paraguay.

* * *

_End Chapter 29_


	30. Early in the Morning

_A/N: Chapter 30! This chapter was originally going to have more in it, but it made more sense to end it where I did and put the other stuff in the next chapter. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 30: Early in the Morning**

_January 1__st__, 2006_

_0618 Local_

_Andrews Air Force Base_

_Camp Springs, MD_

It was a weary Harm that stepped off the plane at Andrews. He'd dozed a bit, but thoughts of Mac had so filled his mind that he'd never really slept. As he'd predicted, he was already regretting allowing Sturgis to pick him up this morning; he really just wanted to be by himself and try to contact Mac.

Before he'd boarded the plane here, he'd checked his voicemail for any messages, only to find they'd all been purged save for a message from Admiral Chegwidden that was received yesterday requesting Harm to call him back ASAP. Unfortunately, Harm had had to board his flight before he'd had a chance to do it. _Maybe if Sturgis hadn't called first…_

As soon as he thought about Sturgis, the man himself appeared before him, his hand held out in front of him. Harm accepted the proffered hand and the two men exchanged a firm handshake.

"Hey, Sturg," Harm said tiredly.

"Welcome back, buddy."

The two men seemed to size each other up for a moment, before Harm finally held up his phone and told him he needed to call the admiral. Sturgis looked like he was about to protest, but then he just nodded in what appeared to be resignation.

Harm turned his back toward Sturgis and quickly dialed the admiral's number, which unfortunately went straight to voicemail. He left a brief message, then faced Sturgis again.

"Ready, Harm?" Sturgis asked, and at Harm's nod, the two men left the building and made for Sturgis' car. Once Harm had loaded his bag in the back, they took their respective seats, and they were on their way.

As soon as they hit the freeway, Sturgis grew noticeably uncomfortable. His fingers drummed on the steering wheel in an uneven rhythm, something totally out of character for him, and every few seconds he'd shift in his seat with a sigh, setting Harm's teeth on edge in his travel-fatigued state. He was about to ask what the hell was wrong with him when Sturgis blurted out a single word:

"Breakfast?"

"What?"

"Have you, uh, had breakfast?"

Harm slowly turned his head to give Sturgis a look of consternation. "I've been on a plane owned and operated by the military for the last five hours, so unless you've managed to slip me an omelet without me realizing it…no, Sturg, I haven't."

"There's a diner over on—"

"Sturgis, I'm not really up for it…I just want to get home and…"

_Call Mac. _

Well, perhaps he wouldn't call right when he got home; it was only 0430 in Whitefish. He vowed he'd wait until at least five…or maybe not. He had a nagging sense that she needed him. Since he'd gotten of the plane it had grown stronger to the point that it felt like she was right there with him.

"Harm?"

Sturgis' voice pulled Harm away from thoughts of Mac, and it was hard not to snap at his fellow naval commander. "Yeah?"

"Look, buddy, I need to talk to you about something…can we at least grab a coffee?"

It was becoming apparent that Sturgis wasn't going to give up easily, so Harm finally agreed. Sturgis took the next exit, and before long, the two were sitting across from each other in a rather non-descript café, sipping coffee which could be best described as 'hot' and nothing else.

"So, Sturgis…what did you want to discuss with me?" Harm asked after several long minutes of silence. Sturgis still looked so uncharacteristically uncomfortable that Harm wondered if the other man was struggling to make an apology for his treatment of Mac. He had to admit, he really didn't want to hear it—at least not until he had some sleep after a long overdue conversation with Mac. He wondered idly to himself if he could manage to get some leave to go see her and give her the letters he'd written to her while he was TAD. Then again, he was planning to tender his resignation as soon as the ink dried on _that _letter, so asking for leave could be a mute point. "Sturgis?"

"It's about Mac…"

_Here it comes, _he thought to himself.

"Buddy…"

The vibrating of his phone next to his elbow interrupted them, causing both men to jump a bit, leaving Harm feeling a bit foolish. After all, as a naval aviator, it was assumed he had nerves of steel. He held up a finger to Sturgis and picked up the phone. Once he saw who it was, he started to stand. "I gotta take this Sturg; it's the admir— "

"She's here." Sturgis broke in, sounding a little desperate. The phone slipped from Harm's hand and hit the table, bouncing a bit before the vibrating stopped and the call went to voicemail.

"What?" he asked, his heart rate increasing exponentially.

"Mac. She's here. In Washington."

Harm's stomach dropped to his feet as he slowly lowered himself down in the booth once again. "Since when? Why?" he questioned, forgetting the admiral for a moment.

"Since just after Christmas. She came to JAG, asked to speak to the admiral, then left shortly thereafter. I—I followed her back to her hotel."

As astounded as he was that Mac had made an appearance here, he was still rather angry that Sturgis would violate her privacy like that. "What the hell did you do that for?" he snapped, and Sturgis looked a bit taken aback.

"Harm, I would have thought you, of all people, would want to know where she's been and why she left." This was said in a rather self-righteous tone, and Harm found himself in the uncomfortable position of wanting to punch one of his oldest friends. His fists clenched underneath the table as he willed himself to calm down, but then he remembered Sturgis' last words.

"You still want to know why she left? I think that has already been well-established." He gave Sturgis a pointed look and the man at least had the good grace to look somewhat ashamed…for a moment, anyway.

"I agree, Harm…we could have done better…but to let us all think she'd killed herself? Come on, Harm…and then to just show up, _clearly _having moved on…maybe she doesn't owe us an explanation for anything, but it sure would be nice to get one, don't you think?" Sturgis raised an eyebrow at him, and Harm nearly snorted.

As before, though, something Sturgis said triggered something in his brain.

"What do you mean, she's 'clearly' moved on?" Harm's phone vibrated again but this time he completely ignored it as he continued to question his coworker. "Well? Did she say something, or come here with anyone?"

Sturgis thought a moment. "Well, I guess she did, in a manner of speaking…come here with someone, I mean."

Harm blinked at the other man while a bit of dread settled around his heart. Mac wouldn't have fallen for someone else, would she? Did she get back together with that Ethan…_Ian _guy?

_Of course not, Harm. _

Mac's voice sounded in his mind, and he was flooded with relief. Something was definitely not right with her, though. He could feel it.

"Well, spit it out, Sturgis! Who was there with her?" _Mary? Dan? Nic? _Harm nearly shuddered are the thought of Mac's demon cat. Surely, she wouldn't have dragged that animal _here. But who could it be? _He glared impatiently at his fellow JAG officer. After yet another long hesitation, Sturgis finally answered.

"Harm, buddy, Mac's pregnant."

_What?!_

"What?!" he said aloud. That was _not _what he'd expected to hear.

"I'm sorry, Harm."

Harm could have sworn he'd heard an undercurrent of smug satisfaction in Sturgis' voice, and it irked him, nay, _infuriated _him. Where did Sturgis get off? After the way she'd been treated, Mac had had every right to move on. That had been a difficult pill for Harm to swallow at first; there was no doubt of that, but he'd eventually accepted it, and since she had, at least for a while, chosen to move on with him, all was well. She'd forgiven him for the years of keeping her at arm's length, and he'd forgiven her for running. At the moment, it seemed Sturgis was sending Harm an 'I told you so' message with his attitude. An 'I told you so' that said,_ "We were right about her. She deserved our contempt and we were completely justified in treating her the way we did. Obviously she didn't appreciate what you'd done for her; or she wouldn't have gone off and gotten herself pregnant. So there!"_

"Harm?" Sturgis spoke after a moment of Harm trying to process things. Say something, buddy. I know it's hard to hear that she's— "

To Harm, Sturgis sounded faintly patronizing. It annoyed him, and his fists once again clenched under the cover of the table. He was still trying to come to terms with the news of Mac's pregnancy as well; all the implications of it, all the possibilities roiled around in his brain, and he found he wasn't yet able to form a coherent response to it. He'd just spent several months at sea, hadn't seen her since that miserable day in July when she'd driven away from the farm, taking his heart with her.

Just what had happened in the last six months?

"Harm?" Sturgis spoke again, and Harm wondered why the man couldn't just leave him be for just one goddamn minute.

"What?!" He snapped, further irritated when Sturgis merely sat there unperturbed, then proceeded to speak to him again in a voice seeping with exaggerated calm.

"I'm sure this must be a shock to you, Harm."

_You have no idea. _"Just give me a minute, will you?"

"Of course."

Harm took a few deep breaths as his phone vibrated yet again. He glanced down, noting that there was another voicemail from Admiral Chegwidden, and he supposed before he did much of anything, he'd better call his CO back. But he had one more question…

"Sturgis? When is Mac due?"

"The end of March, she said."

Harm started to do some quick calculations in his head, growing more and more excited…but first, he needed som confirmation…

"Hey, what's nine months before that?" He held his breath while he awaited Sturgis' answer.

"Um, end of June?"

_Oh my god…_

Before he could think too much about where they had both been around the end of June, his phone went off again. This time text scrolled across the screen, and his eyes widened in surprise as he read the admiral's message:

[HARM CALL ME BACK NOW GODDAMMIT. THAT'S AN ORDER!]

Harm picked up his phone and stood up. "Look, I need to call the admiral, alright?" Without waiting for a response, he slid from the booth and quickly dialed the admiral's number. When AJ picked up, Harm expected him to unleash another tirade at him, but instead, what he heard shook him to the core. After a few more seconds, Harm hung up and returned to Sturgis.

"I need to go. That was the admiral," he said needlessly. Of _course, _he'd been talking the admiral. He'd just told Sturgis that.

He took a deep breath while praying he could stay strong.

"I need to get to the hospital." Sturgis rose as well then and slid out of the booth to stand at Harm's side.

"Why? Did something happen to Admiral Chegwidden?"

Harm shook his head as he tried to still his shaking hands. "No, it's about Mac. They think she might be in preterm labor. Come on, I want to get to her. _Now!"_

Sturgis nodded and pulled his car keys from his pocket. A look of confusion passed over his face, though, and the man hesitated.

"Why, Harm?"

"_Why?!" _Harm turned his own confused look on his old friend.

"I'm just surprised you want to go to her when the baby's not— "

Harm stared at Sturgis in askance. The man was seriously implying that they shouldn't at least have sympathy for their former friend who could be about to lose her baby? Harm had seen people more concerned about losing a cow or a calf during calving season.

"The baby _is _mine, Sturgis," he answered coldly. "But that shouldn't matter, should it? You're a pastor's kid; shouldn't you know something about compassion? Now, take me to the hospital, and after that, I don't want to see you for a while, okay?"

Wide-eyed and silent, Sturgis nodded and the two left the café, Harm growing more and more terrified for Mac and his as yet unborn child.

_Hang on, Ninja Girl. I'm coming._

* * *

_End Chapter 30_

* * *

_Sorry I didn't get Harm and Mac together in this chapter. Next chapter! I promise!_


	31. Come on Home

_A/N: Woohoo! Another chapter in the bag. I'm not sure how many more chapters this will be, but I know there isn't much left. Thank you for all the reviews and kind words—I'm not overly sure about this chapter—it's mostly filler, really, but I hope you all enjoy it all the same—it's a long one!_

**Gone **

**Chapter 31: Come on Home**

_0642 Local_

_Capitol Hill Medical Center_

_Washington, DC_

Admiral Chegwidden jolted awake, wondering for a moment where he was and what had disturbed him. He found himself sitting up in a chair, the muscles of his neck and back screaming in protest, but all wasn't completely clear again until he heard the sound of a woman sniffling next to him.

AJ sat up straighter and glanced down at Mac, who lay on her side, her back toward him. Her shoulders shook with each shuddering breath, and he knew she was trying to cry quietly so as not to disturb him.

"Mac, honey…what's wrong?" he asked as he rested a hand on her arm. He noticed she had her hand was pressed into her rounded abdomen, and mere seconds later, she suddenly gasped and curled more into herself. She had also gone stiff underneath his touch, and AJ suspected he knew why.

"More contractions?" he asked when she'd relaxed somewhat.

"A couple now," she nodded. "They haven't been as strong as last night, but I-I'm still…"

"Scared?" Mac closed her eyes and nodded again, more tears slipping out from underneath her eyelids. It hurt AJ to see Mac like this; she'd always been the tough, stoic marine, and while he knew many things had changed over the last couple of years, he also realized she must be utterly terrified if she was allowing him to witness her current turmoil.

"AJ?" her small, shaky voice interrupted his thoughts and he found himself brushing a few strands of her hair behind her ear in a decidedly fatherly manner.

"Yes, honey?"

"Have you…is Harm…will he be here soon?"

_Good question. _AJ pulled his phone from his pocket, disappointed to find there was no communication as yet from Harm. He was about to give her the bad news when he realized he didn't have any cell signal at the moment. Something about this particular room must be blocking things and, after letting Mac know his plans, he left to go find a better area.

* * *

Mac rolled herself over and watched AJ's retreating back. Part of her, a fairly large part of her in fact, wanted to beg him to stay, but if he was to check on Harm, he needed to go. She told herself to buck up, but her tears flowed again anyway, and it was all she could do not to curl up and sob.

Though she knew this was uncharted territory and no one would fault her for being emotional at a time like this, it still embarrassed her. Yes, she had left the marines, but here in DC, her last posting, she felt the need to take on that persona again. The problem was, with everything that had happened in the last two and a half years, she felt like an open wound, a wound that was growing ever deeper after her visit to JAG and her confrontations with Sturgis and Harriet.

The thought of last night's debacle at the Roberts' caused her tears to fall with even more vigor. She hadn't expected it all to go south like that; as reluctant as she was to go to Bud and Harriet's in the first place, she'd shored herself up by remembering that both the admiral and Harm had spoken of how missed and loved she was. Surely, everything would be okay.

Obviously, it wasn't. Mac had been totally unprepared for the rancor in Harriet's voice as the younger woman had chastised her for leaving. She'd already been feeling vulnerable; no one would ever know exactly how difficult it was for her to come to Washington and face everyone here, and she missed Harm so fiercely she actually felt sick at times. And now, she may lose her baby…

_Harm's _baby...

Last night, she'd also spoken to one of the neonatologists covering the intensive care nursery. If she delivered now, her baby would need much care in the NICU as it was called, and while survival was getting better and better at the nearly twenty-eight weeks along that she was, there were still no guarantees and her son would be at risk for a multitude of issues. The doctor, an older gentleman named Dr. Ira Benn, didn't sugarcoat anything but he had been quietly compassionate, for which Mac had been exceedingly grateful, and she'd also been appreciative when Admiral Chegwidden had asked the questions she hadn't been able to in her current emotional state. It had been a little awkward, but AJ had held her as she'd cried after Dr. Benn's visit. She'd fallen asleep shortly thereafter, once they'd finally convinced her to take the sleeping pill they'd offered. She'd awakened again once or twice, but, somewhat to her surprise, she'd managed to get a reasonable amount of sleep.

This morning she'd been pulled out of her slumber by that frighteningly familiar tightening of her belly, and though the contraction wasn't nearly as strong as those of the night before, it still terrified her. The admiral appeared to be dozing at her bedside, so she'd tried to cry as silently as possible, but of course it hadn't worked. The man had awakened as well, but at least someone had been there to comfort her, and maybe now he could get some information about Harm. She only hoped she wouldn't be left alone for long as she turned back over and gazed up at the clock on the wall. Being alone gave her too much time to dwell on her circumstances, time she couldn't quantify with her currently scrambled time sense, and it caused her already significant anxiety level to increase exponentially.

As she watched the second hand on the clock slide past the twelve again, another contraction started to build, stronger than the two previous, and after she called her nurse, she finally let herself curl into a ball and sob.

* * *

AJ cursed as he glanced down at his cell. He'd gone down the hall from Mac's room, where he'd had a decent signal the night before, but now it was nonexistent. Flipping the phone shut, he made his way back to Mac with the intent to tell her he was going to have to step outside. Instead, he found a weeping Mac and he rushed to her side.

"Mac, what happened?" he asked, somewhat frantically, and the nurse at the bedside answered for her.

"She had a few more contractions; we've called the doctor and she should be here—well, now."

AJ turned around as a new doctor stepped into the room, introducing herself as Dr. Harris. She seemed confident and friendly, which gave AJ the strength to step away and let her check on Mac. He leaned down and kissed Mac's forehead, wiped a few of her tears away, and told her of his plan to go outside the hospital to make his call to Harm. She nodded, those huge eyes of hers seemingly begging him to get Harm back to her, and, a little choked up himself, he reassured her he'd be back as soon as possible, leaving her in the doctor and nurse's capable hands.

* * *

_It's about damn time!_ AJ thought to himself a few minutes later as he flipped his cell shut after talking to Harm. It had taken two phone calls, two voicemails and even a text message, but Harm was finally on his way after apparently being picked up from Andrews by Sturgis. Sturgis had then coerced Harm into having 'coffee' with him, and much to the admiral's annoyance, he'd also taken it upon himself to tell Harm about Mac's pregnancy. AJ had been quick to inform Harm of the exact circumstances surrounding it before ordering him to get his six here immediately, though he suspected Harm had already hung up and would no doubt make it here in record time anyway.

AJ sensed Harm was also more than annoyed with Sturgis at the moment; there was something in his tone when he mentioned the other senior attorney at JAG that did not bode well. AJ thought about it for a moment, then shrugged; the two would have to figure it out on their own, but he suspected the friendship was on its last legs. Sturgis had grown more priggish in the last couple of years and though the admiral in him liked his by-the-book persona, the man inside wondered when Sturgis was going to finally get the stick out of his ass.

Rather than dwell on that thought any longer, AJ decided he'd better hit the restroom and then procure some coffee. It hadn't been a very restful night to be sure, making a caffeine a must, and he also wanted to make sure the doctor had enough time to examine Mac before he barged back in on them. He looked around, his eyes landing on the sign pointing toward the cafeteria, and went about his tasks.

* * *

A scant twenty minutes later and without a word to his 'chauffeur', Harm hopped out of Sturgis' vehicle and retrieved his sea bag from the back. He did his best to refrain from slamming the door shut, then walked away without a backward glance. He was still infuriated with Sturgis and his attitude toward Mac, and now his fear for his unborn child was making his heart pound all the more frenetically the closer he got to the entrance of the hospital. He vaguely heard Sturgis drive away as he stepped through the automatic doors and then, hefting his bag on his shoulder, he headed toward the elevators. As soon as he turned the corner into the alcove that housed the lifts, he was greeted by an impatient Admiral Chegwidden, who was currently repeatedly and aggressively pressing the 'up' button.

"AJ!" he called as he stepped to the other man's side. "What's going on? Why aren't you with Mac? Is she really in labor? What room is she—"

AJ held up his hands. "Whoa, slow down, Harm. The doctor is with her now, checking her; she started having some contractions again this morning like I told you, but I don't know yet if she's actually in labor."

The elevator arrived then, and the two men entered it, AJ pushing the button to the appropriate floor. "What happened, AJ? When did all of this start?"

Harm saw something flash in the admiral's eyes, something he didn't like. "AJ? What started all of this?"

"Mac should be the one to tell you…"

"Well, I'm asking you. Mac has enough going on right now, apparently." Harm sighed after a moment. "And I'd like to know why she didn't tell me about the baby."

The elevator stopped before AJ could answer him, and two nurses stepped on, annoying Harm, but he held his tongue until they arrived at the obstetrical floor. All four of them stepped out into the hall, and the two men allowed the nurses to pass on by them before AJ took a step toward Mac's room.

"Wait, AJ." Harm called, and the older man turned around. "Why _didn't_ she tell me?"

AJ let out his own heavy sigh. "You really need to talk to Mac about all of this, son, but I gathered she didn't find out until you'd already left for the carrier, and though she tried to call you afterwards, she couldn't get ahold of you."

Harm closed his eyes for a moment. It broke his heart to hear Mac had been trying to reach him, all the while facing this on her own. Oh, he knew Mary and Dan would be there for her, but it wouldn't be the same, and given how they'd 'ended' things, it had to have been especially hard for her.

"I can't believe she came back here, sir. She told me she never wanted to set foot in Washington again…not after everything that had happened."

AJ nodded. "It was hard for her, I could tell…but she wanted to tell you so badly and in person that she—well, she did it."

_"Oh, Mac…"_ Harm whispered. Coming back here had to be one of the hardest and bravest things she'd ever done, and Harm knew he had to squelch any feelings of anger or hurt that he hadn't known he was going to be a father until today. Well…he _hoped_ he was going to be a father. He had no idea what could happen if Mac delivered now…in fact, he didn't even know the sex of the baby. Mac likely knew already; his marine had always been a planner, and in spite of his fears, a small smile flitted across his face. That smile quickly disappeared when he saw the look on AJ's face. The older man was obviously uncomfortable now, perhaps even nervous, and Harm could have sworn he saw anger in his CO's eyes as well.

"AJ?"

"There's, uh, something more, Harm. Mac's staying at your loft—"

"That's okay, AJ. She should be there," Harm interrupted. AJ nodded, but obviously had more to say.

"Go on," Harm encouraged him.

"She went to the Roberts' last night for dinner."

Harm didn't understand why that would be a problem. Didn't that indicate they had reconciled? "So?"

"She didn't want to go, really, but she wanted to see little AJ, so she agreed. Apparently, it was a pleasant visit for the most part, but after they'd eaten…she and Harriet had some sort of confrontation. Harriet was upset that Mac left the way she did, and Mac…Harm, I didn't realize just how badly she'd been hurt before. She seemed…I don't know, devastated by it. Bud called me to let me know what had happened; he was fairly angry with Harriet about it and wanted me to check on Mac…" AJ suddenly looked even more on edge as he stopped speaking and looked down at his feet.

"_And,_ AJ? What happened next?"

AJ cleared his throat. "I, uh, mentioned that we couldn't find you, but before I could tell her there was still no need to worry, she broke down. I left right then and there to go to her, and by the time I got to your apartment, she was having contractions."

Harm knew his face had gone white. He felt a little dizzy, in fact, and his mind was a mess of fear and concern for Mac and the baby, anger at Sturgis, and now fury towards Harriet. How could she treat Mac like that, after seeming to be so devastated when Mac disappeared?

"AJ…why…Harriet…Sturgis…why can't they let it go? What did she ever do to them? God, it's my fault, I know…I was so angry with her at first, but I really had no right…and anyway, what happened in Paraguay and immediately before and after was just between us. It had nothing to do with them…but they still…" Harm was embarrassed to find he was choking up, unshed tears stinging his eyes. Why couldn't they stop hurting his Mac?

He felt AJ's hand on his shoulder. "I don't know, son. I just know she's been waiting for you and both she and your son need you. Go to her…I'll take your bag and give you a minute." Harm nodded and turned away, but only took a few steps before he turned back.

"My son?"

AJ gave Harm a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Harm. I know Mac wanted to tell you…but yes, you're having a boy."

Harm couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. Yes, the situation was dire, but the news that he was going to have a son brought him a feeling of intense joy, and as he headed toward Mac's room once again, he suddenly had the feeling that everything would be alright.

* * *

Mac lay on her side again, fighting more tears. The doctor was starting her on a different medication for her contractions, although it appeared she wasn't dilated any further than she was the night before, and Dr. Harris had overall been reassuring. Mac, however, knew nothing would feel right until Harm was by her side again, whenever that would be...

With an impatient hand, she brushed more of those damn tears aside, wondering when the admiral was going to come back. She didn't want to be alone right now, even if all the man did was sit silently by her side and hold her hand.

The thought that she actually wanted her former CO to hold her hand made her want to cry harder. Marine Lt. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie must be truly gone now, and all that was left behind was a scared woman who desperately wanted to be held. It was embarrassing. She tried taking some slower, deeper breaths, and began watching her clock again.

A few minutes went by, minutes where she tried to focus on her baby's heartbeat and his impatient movements; he seemed to want to stretch out completely but his mother's infernal uterus wouldn't let him. Picturing her son banging on the walls of her womb at least amused her for a bit, but the moment was short lived; soon it was back to tears and wanting the admiral to get his six back to her.

Scant seconds later, as if she'd conjured him up herself, she felt his hand on her arm, and she sighed in relief. _Finally! _She tried to hide the fact that she'd been crying, though she supposed it would be nothing but painfully obvious, especially when she gave a rather loud sniffle.

"AJ…did you find Harm?" she finally asked, surreptitiously swiping at her tear-stained cheeks. She felt AJ's hand move from her shoulder to her face, his thumb brushing under her eye, and she started to shake at the familiar gesture.

"He did, baby."

"H-Harm?" she asked, barely daring to believe it.

"I'm here, sweetheart."

And then he was suddenly on the other side of her, pulling her into his arms and holding her tight, and she let everything go.

* * *

"I-I'm sorry, Harm," were Mac's first real words to him. They were now lying in the bed side-by-side, not caring whether or not the nurses approved. Harm pressed a kiss to her hair and shook his head.

"It's okay, Mac. Everything is okay now." And it really was, at least between them; he knew they would talk about what happened after she left the farm last summer, but it really didn't matter. He wasn't going to let her go and by the way she'd clung to him, he suspected she wouldn't let go either.

"But…"

"No, Mac," he said firmly. "You're here, I'm here…and we're having a baby!" He still could hardly believe it, even though he currently had one of his large hands resting on her pregnant tummy, awed beyond measure at the feel of his son moving beneath it.

"You're really happy about this?" she asked, biting her lip with insecurity, and he couldn't resist kissing it. He let his hand rub circles over the swell of her abdomen as he looked deeply into those chocolate-amber eyes that he had missed so much.

"I am, Mac…we're a little late on our deal, but I don't think I could be any happier. You're giving me a son, Mac." He smiled at her, a softer version of his flyboy grin, and was dismayed when she broke into tears again. He shifted to wrap both arms around her and let her cry again into his chest, while he whispered words of comfort into her ear. She tried to speak after a few minutes, but her voice was muffled against his shirt, so he moved slightly back. "Mac, baby, what is it?"

"I'm s-s-sorry, Harm. S-Sorry for leaving you the way I did. I thought it was the right thing to do…but I don't think…even if it hadn't been for the baby…I don't think I could have stayed away. No, I _know, _I couldn't have. I would have called you up and begged you to come back to me. I would have asked you to leave the navy for me…_again…_even knowing I had no right to ask that."

"Oh, Mac, sweetheart…you have every right to ask…but you don't have to. I'm retiring from the navy. As soon as I can, I want to live in Montana with you and our son."

Mac pulled away, shock written all over her face. "Harm, you can't do that…you've already…I-I'll stay here. I can't ask you…"

Even as she told him she'd stay here, and he knew she was being sincere, he could tell it hurt her. She loved Montana. She loved that demon cat. She loved her job and Mary…and honestly, he loved it all too. Well…maybe he didn't love Nicodemus, but even that beast was starting to grow on him, if for no other reason than the fact that Nic obviously loved Mac too. Harm loved the crisp air of the Montana mountains, loved watching Mac charm everyone who came into the shop, and he loved the idea of raising their children amongst all that beauty.

"Mac, no, sweetheart…you really don't have to ask…I mean that…it's what I want…for _us." _Harm suddenly worked his way out of the bed and walked to the bag the admiral had sneakily dropped off earlier. He unzipped it and pulled out a small canvas sack that bulged a bit with its contents before he came back to the bed and sat down next to her. He handed her the sack before he wrapped his arm around her shoulders once again.

"What's this, Harm?" Her hands moved around the bag as she got a feel for it.

"Letters," he said simply. She looked up at him, questions in her eyes. Harm gave her a little smile and took the bag back, reaching in then and pulling out the stack of letters it contained. He flipped through the first few before he explained them to her.

"When I was TAD, most of the time I wasn't able to communicate with anyone other than the people immediately around me. I missed you so much…god, it hurt, Mac—no, don't cry, sweetheart, it's okay—so I decided to write you those letters. I planned to give them to you when I got back…I'd pretty much decided to retire the moment I came back from the farm, but I figured you weren't ready to accept that from me yet. I can tell you aren't quite ready to accept it now, even…but in those letters I wrote down all the reasons why I want this, want _us. _Every word on those pages is true, Mac…and before you tell me again that you don't think I should retire, I want you to read them."

"Harm…" Mac's voice was a near whisper.

"Mac, sweetheart…let's not talk any more about it today…read the letters…and then we can discuss it later, okay?" He watched her forehead wrinkle as her teeth teased her lower lip, her eyes searching his. She finally nodded, and he gave her a soft smile before he set the letters on the stand nearby. He then drew her into his arms, and they slid back down in the bed, Harm cradling Mac against his chest. Her stomach was nestled close to him, and every once in a while, he could feel his son's feet push against him.

"He doesn't stop moving, does he?" he asked, utterly in awe of the fact that Mac was carrying his child. He refused to believe everything wouldn't be okay; maybe it was naïve of him, but somehow he knew deep down he'd soon be taking his son and Mac home to Montana.

"He's definitely got your legs, Harm," Mac murmured against him and Harm felt inordinately proud. Harm felt the baby move again, and this time, Mac shifted her position slightly, her face wrinkled in a slight grimace.

"More contractions, Mac?" Harm asked, instantly worried. He was relieved when she shook her head and gave him a rueful smile.

"No…but just so you know, he's got your arms and elbows too." Harm chuckled at that as he moved to press another kiss to Mac's hair and then he proceeded rub her back in long, soothing strokes.

"Hmmmmmm," Mac breathed as her eyes fluttered shut in contentment. "It feels so good to have you touch me again." Her fingers began to draw little circles on his chest and Harm could feel her growing heavier against him. He was feeling more relaxed now as well, more relaxed than he had in the last six months, but before they both drifted off to sleep, he wanted to know something.

"Mac, baby?" he asked tentatively.

"Hmmm?" she mumbled.

"I…I can't believe…I mean, you came here. To Washington. Why?" He felt her stiffen slightly as she became more awake again, and he felt bad about bringing it up, but he had to know.

"It wasn't easy, Harm," she said after a while, and he nodded. It couldn't have been in the least easy for her. "For the longest time I couldn't bring myself to call you…besides, you were out on a carrier by the time I finally acknowledged that I was most likely pregnant. I decided then to wait until I was sure you'd be back, promising myself that I would call you on October first. But, I couldn't reach you…your landline was disconnected, and your cell kept going to voicemail…and after a while it was too full to even receive more messages. I thought…well…for a moment I thought you were avoiding me…that you'd given up—"

"Mac—I told you—"

"I know, Harm…I know. I was…devasted at first, but I think I always knew deep down you wouldn't just ignore me. Mary wanted to call JAG for me and ask for you, but I wouldn't let her—for a few weeks I barely talked to her because I was angry that she could even suggest I should contact somebody there and risk them finding out about me. I still tried your cellphone, but finally I couldn't take it anymore. I needed you, s-s-so m-much—" Her voice broke with a little sob, and Harm used his gentle touch to once again brush her tears away. She gave him a watery smile, taking a deep, shuddering breath before she continued.

"I decided I had to call JAG. I had to know where you were. Mary was great; I'd been so upset with her and she didn't deserve that, but she still forgave me. I asked her to stay with me, but when I dialed the number, I realized I couldn't tell you this over the phone. I had to see you in person, so I—I went to the Wall, Harm. On Christmas Eve."

Harm's eyes filled with tears as he imagined her standing out there in the cold, waiting for a man that would never come. "Oh…I-I'm so sorry, Mac."

"It's okay, Harm…you didn't come, I know, but that just told me you hadn't comepletely abandoned me—if you were in town, you'd have been there.

"I didn't know what to do at first…I thought about just catching the next flight back to Montana, but I was so tired, so I stayed. Drove around. Went to your apartment…you know, Harm…you should probably change the locks once in a while." She gave him a tiny, yet still impish grin and he shrugged good-naturedly.

"Being there at your place…stealing a bottle of your aftershave…" His eyes widened at that, but she merely gave him another impish grin and kept going. "It was so comforting. I found my photo albums in your closet and I looked through them—I ended up crying myself to sleep on your bed, and when I woke up, I knew what I had to do. It was time to stop hiding, time to stop wallowing…so I went to JAG."

"And I suspect it was shortly after that I was called back to Washington," Harm mused.

"I'm sorry about that, Harm…but…I needed you."

Her simple admission touched him, and he was quick to reassure her that he had been wanting nothing more than to come home so he could come back to her.

"AJ convinced me to stay at your place; I hope you don't mind—"

"Of course, I don't mind, Mac," he interrupted her, and she patted his chest in acknowledgement.

After a few moments of silence, Mac snuggled closer to him, and though he didn't want to upset her, he needed to ask her about her visit to the Roberts' last night. He suspected she wouldn't just offer up the story; she had always felt guilty that his being with her meant avoiding his friends, but he wanted, no, _needed_ her to know he would always choose her.

"Mac? AJ told me what happened at Bud and Harriet's." At the mention of their godson's parents, her fist clenched in his shirt, and it wasn't long before he felt her hot tears on his neck. "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry…I never thought she would act that way." Indeed, he hadn't thought any of their JAG family would have treated one woman so deplorably. He'd been angry with her at one time too, he wouldn't deny that, but he'd long since let go of it all. Why couldn't Sturgis and Harriet do the same?

"Mac, I hope you know this…I mean, _really, _know this…you didn't do anything wrong. It was the rest of us…and you had every right to leave all of this behind. To think that you were actually contemplating suicide before you left…and now they still can't give it up…"

"H-Harm…I kn-know I did what I had to do…but why does it still h-hurt s-so m-much?" Her whole body shook with quiet sobs.

"Because…god, Mac…it—it just does…and I-I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He felt her nod against him, and then he just held her while she cried.

* * *

Mac glanced down at the man sleeping beside her. A part of her found it hard to believe Harm was finally here with her again; she'd never missed anyone with such an all-consuming fervor before, and she found she literally ached when she wasn't touching him. The few times he'd gotten up to use the bathroom, the times she did the same, when the nurse came in and helped her shower…she felt the pain of separation like a knife to the heart, and she wondered how she'd even breathed when they were separated.

They'd spent the day holding each other and talking, visited with the obstetrician again as well as the neonatologist so that Harm could understand what was going on as well, and then she'd napped for a couple of hours. She felt immeasurably better after that, awakening to find the admiral had come back to check on her. She watched AJ and Harm converse for a while before they realized she was awake, and then the three of them chatted about Montana, Nicodemus, and the admiral's impending retirement. Mac wondered if Harm had spoken to AJ about retiring himself while she'd been asleep, but neither of the men brought it up, and after the admiral left and supper had been eaten, Harm had fallen asleep next to her. She'd expected the nurses to make him sleep on the foldout couch in the room, but they only smiled indulgently at them, and as everything seemed to be stable at the moment, they let it go.

Mac hadn't felt any contractions beyond what she'd felt before she'd arrived in Washington, the baby seemed to be doing well, and Mac hoped she'd be discharged tomorrow. She supposed she would go home with Harm; there would be no way he'd let her return to Montana on her own, she was sure of it, so as soon as he'd dozed off, she'd called Mary and advised her of the situation. Mac felt terrible about leaving Mary in the lurch so to speak, but Mary told her in no uncertain terms that her and her baby's health was paramount, and Mary would be just fine without her. Of course, Mac cried again, and for probably the millionth time, she wondered what had happened to Mac the marine. This time she pushed that thought away, however; times had changed, _she_ had changed, and it was time to accept that she was more Samantha O'Hara now than Sarah MacKenzie. It was relief, though, to realize that she could still be 'Mac' with the people she loved. Mac more than anything embodied who she was and hearing it again after Harm had found her gave her intense comfort, even considering their rocky start when Harm had first shown up at the store.

Mac contemplated taking another nap with Harm, but she was feeling a little wired. She looked around for the remote for the television set mounted in the corner of the room, but her eyes fell instead on the letters Harm had written to her. Checking first to make sure Harm was still sound asleep, Mac pulled them into her lap, and then she began to read.

* * *

_End Chapter 31_


	32. Down So Low

_A/N: Goodness, it's been so long since I posted _anything _that I'm wondering if I remember how! So, I'm totally meh about this chapter; I don't think my mojo is entirely back. I did, however, need somewhat of a filler chapter, so I guess this is it. We're winding down here…maybe 3 chapters left? We'll see…_

_Yeah, NOTHING really happens in this chapter, but at least I'm posting, right? Yes? Ughhhhh…_

**Gone**

**Chapter 32: Down So Low**

_2001 Local_

_Capitol Hill Medical Center_

_Washington, DC_

Mac brushed a few tears aside as she finished reading Harm's last letter. In each missive, he'd told her how much he loved her, how much he missed her, and in the letter he'd written to her on Christmas Eve, he'd told her of his plans to retire to be with her. She'd smiled when she read the line about "don't look at me like that," knowing there was likely a skeptical expression on her face at that moment, then cried as she'd read how much he wanted to raise a family with her in Montana. Still, though…could he really give up the navy again for her? Could he give it up and not resent her years from now, could he—

"Yes, I can, Mac." Mac jumped at the sound of Harm's voice, startled not only by the sound of it, but also at the sheer forcefulness of it. It didn't surprise her, however, that he knew immediately what she'd just been reading, and it didn't surprise her that he already knew her doubts.

"Are you sure, Harm? No, let me finish…how can you be so sure you won't resent me…I-I've disrupted your life so much, practically since I met you and I don't want you to have to give up anything more for me!"

Harm pushed himself up and leaned back against the bed's headboard, shoulder to shoulder with Mac. "Mac, honey…didn't you read everything I wrote? Especially my letter on Christmas Eve?

"Yes, Harm, I did, but—"

"No…no buts, Mac. I thought I was miserable without the navy before…but honestly…I was miserable without you."

"But you hated me," Mac said tearfully, and Harm's arms went around her.

"Mac, sweetheart…no…and I meant it when I told you life without you was a million times worse than it was without the navy…and don't think I can't tell how much you miss Montana…how much you want to be back there. I know it's been stressful being here, going back to JAG, seeing everybody and I know you're worried about our baby…but it's more than that…"

"Isn't that enough?" Mac broke in. Harm actually chuckled.

"Most of the time, yes…but, sweetheart…yes, I know you meant it when you said you would stay here with me...but…something started to die in your eyes. I could see it."

"That sounds so dramatic, Harm…and it makes me sound, I don't know…unstable." Even as she spoke, however, Mac knew Harm had read the situation accurately. It was suffocating to be in DC, with its traffic, pollution, and noise…_especially_ the noise. There was no doubt she was now far more used to the quiet of the Montana nights, but it went beyond that. Where before she was energized by it, the frantic pace of Washington now made her nervous and edgy. She supposed much of it had something to do with Paraguay; having to listen to Webb's screams, the angry voices of Sadik and his men, gunfire…explosions…having never truly dealt with it all, the sounds of the city startled her often and at times made it hard to even think, which made her feel ridiculous. She was a grown woman, familiar with city life, and she just needed to calm down.

"Mac?" Harm's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Um, what, Harm?"

"I said, you're not unstable."

"I feel like I am sometimes."

"Why?" Harm's voice was gentle as he leaned away from her and tipped her chin so he could look her in the eye. She tried to avoid his gaze, but he was stubborn and wouldn't allow her to look away. "Why, sweetheart?" he asked again, and Mac swallowed hard.

"I still have nightmares…I still sometimes wake up from a bad one and then have to turn on every light in the house. Harm…I literally put chairs under the front and backdoor doorknobs. I even put one under the one to the basement. I light a fire even if it's warm out, and then I spend the rest of the night on the couch but I don't sleep…and that's in Montana, where I feel safe. And Harm, it's been almost three years! How is that not unstable?"

"Mac, honey…that doesn't sound like you're unstable …it sounds like PTSD. You never even got a chance to deal with it all, and the situation at JAG didn't help one bit." He pulled her close once again and whispered into her hair, repeating, "Not one bit."

No, it didn't help, that was for sure, and now she'd forever associate DC with pain, and she knew Harm was right about the PTSD. But what could she do about it?

"You could talk to me," Harm answered, though her question had been unspoken. "And you could talk to Webb. He's much better now."

Mac shook her head. As much as she was relieved Clay had improved, she didn't want to see or talk to the man. She didn't want to bring up painful memories for both of them.

"Well, it was just a thought…anyway, Mac...please believe me when I say I don't want this life anymore. I'm tired of being shipped off to a carrier…I know, you never thought you'd hear me say that. The truth is…I _am _too old for all of that. I'm tired of the missions. I'm tired of spending all that time with guys nearly twenty years younger than me, and most of all, I'm tired of being away from you, and with a baby on the way…I know for damn sure I don't want to raise him here. There's no space…no peace, no— "

"Quiet," Mac interrupted him.

"Yeah…quiet." The two were silent for a moment, and Mac knew Harm's eyes were on her, gazing intently at her. "And Mac…I think you need the quiet."

Mac felt a flash of irritation at Harm's rather astute and entirely accurate assessment. Her eyes snapped up to his and she prepared to fire off some scathing response, but the love and understanding she saw in his blue-grey eyes caused the anger to ebb as quickly as it had come on. "You're right, Harm…I do." And then she proceeded to tell him exactly why she needed the silence.

* * *

_January 2__nd__, 2006_

_1032 Local_

_Harm's Apartment_

_North of Union Station_

"Welcome home, Mac," Harm said as they stepped through the door into his loft. He set their bags down, then closed and locked the door behind them, then took Mac's hand to lead her to the sofa.

"I should be saying that to you, Harm. You're the one who's been away."

"Yeah, well…" Harm shrugged. He motioned for her to sit down, then stroked her hair lovingly. "Let me just put our things in the bedroom, then I'll make you some tea, sound okay?"

"Yeah." Mac nodded, then reached out to put a hand on Harm's arm to stop him. "No, wait, Harm, I'll make the tea…you go unpack." Harm was already shaking his head before she even made it halfway through the words.

"You should be off your feet for a while, Mac." Mac inwardly rolled her eyes. She knew she'd better get used to Harm hovering, but he obviously was bound and determined to go above and beyond all expectations.

"Yeah, that walk from the car to the elevator and then from the elevator to here was _soooo_ tiring, Harm." Harm only smiled indulgently and tapped her nose with his finger.

"Humor me, babe. The doctor said we should be careful and just because you weren't in labor this last time doesn't mean you won't still go into labor early." It was a sobering thought, and Mac knew they would both be on edge until she was considered 'term.'

"Okay, Harm," she dutifully replied, then lifted her legs onto the couch, elevating them with a couple pillows sitting there. "Better?"

"Better," he agreed, bending forward to kiss her on the forehead before taking their things into the bedroom. Mac listened to him moving about the space for a moment, then settled into the pillows Harm had helped place behind her back.

Harm was correct; the doctor had told them to take it easy, including no sex, until she made it to term, which was considered thirty-seven weeks. Mac got the impression the doctor didn't think she'd make it that far, though she hadn't come right out and said it. They were given extensive instructions as to what to watch for should Mac start having issues again, and then had an appointment scheduled for her in two days. Mac was impressed with the young Ob/Gyn physician, for which she was grateful since she wouldn't be returning to Montana until after delivery.

A pang of disappointment went through Mac's heart at that thought. How she longed to be back in her little house near the mountains, but it just wasn't practical. The hospital in Kalispell as yet did not have a NICU, though she knew they were planning for one, thus, if she went into preterm labor, she'd need to be transferred somewhere farther away. Harm wouldn't be able to come with her right now, though he had indeed already talked to Admiral Chegwidden about his retirement, and there was no way she wanted to deliver without him there to support her. She knew he wouldn't allow that either. Flying home would be problematic as well; no one wanted her flying commercial at this stage, and though Harm had told her his stepfather could arrange a private flight, they were back to the fact that there was no nearby NICU where Mac lived. Thus, here she was, staying in Harm's apartment for the duration. The fact that she was with Harm again, however made that prospect much more palatable. She didn't want to be away from him ever again.

Mac smiled as he handed her her tea, and then, ever attentive, he lifted her feet so he could sit down, and then immediately began massaging them. Mac was in heaven.

* * *

_February 9__th__, 2006_

_1422 Local_

_Harm's Apartment_

_North of Union Station_

Mac brushed tears from her eyes, hoping Harm wouldn't notice she'd been crying again. She wasn't crying over anything in particular, not really; it was more that she didn't feel in control of her life and it frustrated her. She completely understood the necessity and practicality of staying in DC, but that didn't stop her from growing more depressed about it daily. Harm had been great; he'd actually gone out and bought a television set and a DVD player, and then stocked the apartment with more movies than she'd be able to watch in a month. He also gave her nightly foot rubs and back rubs, cooked her favorite foods, and simply held her…and as much as she enjoyed all of that, she still felt terribly guilty. Harm was bending over backwards for her, and here she was, being a complete ingrate. Harm had tried to reassure her that he didn't feel that way, but it was to no avail. For a while, she tried to hide her feelings from Harm, but he, of course, picked up on it, and practically forced her to talk about it. She'd gotten angry and lashed out, as was her M.O., but Harm took it calmly and just let her vent. After that, they were finally able to have a rational discussion about it, but she still didn't want him to know how often she broke down and cried.

"I should take you back."

Mac jumped at the sound of Harm's voice behind her. She hadn't heard him come in and a blush warmed her cheeks; he'd caught her waterworks again. He murmured an apology for startling her and then slid his arms around her, resting his hands on her belly. She leaned against him and for a moment he just held her.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he finally asked, and she shook her head.

"Nothing. No, really…I'm just s-sad," she said as more tears fell.

"I'm taking you back, Mac…it's too hard for you here." She started to shake her head again, but he turned her around and cupped her face in his big hands. She felt his fingertips caress the rims of her ears and she leaned into him.

"You can't, Harm."

"Yes, I—"

"Harm, sweetheart," Mac interrupted. "You heard what the doctor said…it just isn't—isn't safe."

Harm leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. "You're right, baby. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Harm. I'll be okay." He gave her a short nod and pulled her fully into his arms.

There _was_ something else that was working on her, on them. Baby Boy Rabb wasn't growing all that well. Mac, of course, blamed herself, though the doctor had tried to reassure her that in this case, as in many cases, there wasn't anything she'd done to cause it. They would do another ultrasound next week, and depending on various factors, her doctor may recommend inducing labor. This rather frightened both Harm and Mac; Mac would only be thirty-four weeks along next week, which was six weeks before her due date, and their son would definitely require a stay in the NICU. Returning to Montana was clearly impractical, even more than they originally thought.

Mac rested her head on Harm's shoulder for a minute, absently running her finger over his gold wings. "You're home early," she eventually murmured, and Harm kissed her hair.

"I am…I had a feeling you needed me."

"I did." She sniffled and wrapped her arms around his torso. "I do." She leaned her head back from him and looked up. "Thank you for coming home."

"Anytime, sweetheart."

Harm studied the woman lying in his arms. His worry for her was steadily increasing; he knew she was depressed, missed her home, and had to feel utterly stir-crazy here. There wasn't a lot for her to do, though he did his best to keep her entertained by finally purchasing a television set, taking her for walks in Rock Creek Park, and eating at places the JAG crew likely wouldn't frequent. Sometimes he just held her, and though he didn't know how that could be enough, it did seem to improve her spirits.

Today at JAG, he'd been sitting in his office, the door closed, and suddenly had the image in his mind of Mac crying. He knew she had cried a lot since she'd been here; she wasn't fooling him though she tried to hide it, but the nagging sense that she really needed him this time wouldn't leave him alone. After ten minutes of repeatedly reaching for the phone then drawing his hand back, he finally decided a phone call wouldn't be enough. He wanted to go home. To her. He stood up from his desk and whipped open his door, startling Harriet on the other side of it. He brushed past her and went straight to his new CO, General Gordon Cresswell, and asked to secure early. The general must have seen the desperation in Harm's eyes, for he let him go right then. Admiral Chegwidden had made him aware of the situation with Mac, knowing Harm would likely need some extra time away, and the General, who'd known Mac when she'd served in Okinawa, was sympathetic. He'd rushed home and she'd been in his arms since. It felt good to have her there, and it made him all the more impatient for his retirement. He never wanted to be separated from her again.

It wasn't just Mac that made him want to leave the navy and JAG. Things were somewhat tense at headquarters, though this time he did his best to be more cordial to his coworkers than he'd been after he'd returned her last summer. He certainly didn't want to be sent away to a carrier again.

Sturgis for the most part avoided Harm per Harm's wishes. They were professional with each other, no more, no less, and didn't disrupt the good order of the office.

He was still angry with Harriet, though he did his best not to let it show. She'd apologized profusely to him, and he'd appreciated her coming to him, but he hadn't forgotten Mac crying in his arms in the hospital after they spoke of her ill-fated visit to the Roberts'. Harriet had asked if she could speak to Mac to convey her apologies to the one who most needed to hear it, but thus far Mac had refused. Harm didn't press it; Harriet's actions had been completely uncalled for and Harm couldn't blame Mac for not trusting Harriet's intentions.

There was one time where he actually did come close to losing his temper with Harriet; they all knew by now that Harm had found Mac over a year ago and that her baby was his, and Harriet had had the gall to ask him why he hadn't told them about it. He bit his tongue to stop himself from saying something regrettable, gave her a hard look, and then just walked away. She didn't ask him again.

Mac shifted in her sleep with little whimper and Harm began running his hand over her back in soothing motions. She whimpered a few more times, her brow furrowed and her body stiff, but eventually she calmed again under his touch and even snuggled in closer to him. He could feel his son move within her and he smiled to himself, still amazed that he was soon to be a daddy. It had been a wonderful surprise, but he wished he could do something to make things easier for Mac…to make her not feel so isolated when he had to be at JAG. He knew she talked to Mary daily, and the older woman kept Mac updated on all things Nicodemus. He was apparently huge now, not that he was petite before, and while he was well-behaved, everyone knew he missed his mistress as much as she missed him.

_Wait a minute…_

An idea started to form in his mind…a ridiculous idea to be sure, but he knew he could pull it off…if he could get just a little help. He reached across Mac for the cordless phone and started making calls.

* * *

_End Chapter 32_


	33. Insecurious

_A/N: This chapter really is mostly filler, a bit of a domestic interlude for our couple. I'd have put more into it, but I think that would result in either a chapter that was too long or one that ended in an awkward spot. Honestly, I think a lot of these final chapters will be filler-like—I basically know how this thing will end and I suppose I could just throw it out there, but I hate when things end so abruptly. I'd like to do a gentler approach to the ending. I don't intend to drag things out, but, well, hopefully you get the idea. Thanks for all the kind reviews after I returned to this story! Once I'm done with this one, I want to finish Miracles, then move on to "Crash" and "Conquering Never." I started Conquering Never almost two years ago as a sequel to "Delicate," and then I got caught up in "Letters to Harm" and this one, thus it's been left hanging out there. It is time, though, to finish it. Besides, there's probably only 3-4 chapters left in it anyway. _

**Gone**

**Chapter 33: Insecurious **

_February 10__th__, 2006_

_0530 Local_

_Harm's Apartment _

_North of Union Station _

The sound of his alarm pulled Harm reluctantly out of slumber and he wondered why the damn thing was going off at such an ungodly hour. He'd meant to shut it off last night, but obviously he'd forgotten. He slapped the snooze button, then rolled over, intending to reach for Mac. Instead, all he grabbed was air, and, concerned now, he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face before calling out to her. She didn't answer, so he turned the alarm off completely and slipped out of bed. He was clad only in his boxers, thus he felt the chill in the air, and he wondered why Mac hadn't turned up the heat. He'd told her she could keep the temperature where she wanted it, but she insisted he do what he'd always done and to not worry about her. He tried to tell her that he kept the temperature up now and again, but she didn't buy it and he supposed it wasn't the worse thing to have her curled close to him to keep warm.

"Mac?" he called out again, and this time he heard a faint 'I'm here' coming from the back corner of the living room. He stepped over to where she sat huddled in chair, wrapped in a blanket, then picked her up and sat down with her in his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder and for a moment he just let the palm of his hand run up and down her back, trying to soothe away the tension she held in her slender body. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" he finally asked, and she shook her head.

"Couldn't sleep, she answered, and Harm nodded slightly as he bent to kiss her forehead.

"Baby keeping you up?"

She shook her head. "Not this time."

Harm kissed her head again, continuing his gentle stroking of his hand over her body. "Then why?"

She shrugged. "Just thoughts."

"About…" Harm didn't want her keeping anything from him, especially now.

She shrugged again. "Anything and everything."

"_Maaac," _he admonished, and he felt her fingertips brush across his cheek in response. He waited several moments, expecting her to speak as well, but she remained silently curled up in his arms. "Mac," he said again, nuzzling her with his nose. "Please talk to me." Harm felt her sigh against him and just when he was sure she wouldn't answer this time either, she started to speak.

"Harm, it's nothing, really. It's just the same thing that has always kept me up at night."

"Which is?"

"Thoughts." Mac shrugged a third time and Harm had to hold in an exasperated sigh.

"Can you tell me some of them?" he finally asked, and for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer, but she surprised him.

"It's more of a jumble of them…they run through my mind so fast and loud and I can't shut them out…I've never been able to from the time I was a little girl. Tonight, it started with worrying about little Harm the third—"

"We haven't agreed to that yet," Harm interrupted, not exactly sure he wanted a child of his growing up with a moniker like 'Harmon.' On the other hand, the idea that someone was carrying on his and his father's name made him rather proud. He supposed they ought to sit down and really discuss what they were going to name their son.

"_You_ haven't agreed to that yet, you mean," she continued, the hint of amusement in her tone warming him. "Anyway, I know it's my fault he's not growing—"

"_Maaac…" _Harm admonished, but he certainly wasn't surprised that she felt that way; it seemed her first instinct was to blame herself if anything around her went wrong. He remembered the first time she'd spent a night in his apartment, when she had taken it upon herself to protect him from Palmer. They'd thought Webb was dead and though there was no way Mac could be responsible for any of that, it seemed she still felt the pains of guilt. Webb was just one more person in the last year associated with her that had died by violent means. There'd been Dalton, killed by her stalker, then her ex-husband, killed by Mac herself. Neither of those deaths were her fault either, but he knew she put the blame for them almost entirely on her own shoulders. Harm suspected that even as a child, she blamed herself for her parents' marital strife. "Mac," he said again. "Don't you remember what the doctor told us? These things just…_happen. _You don't smoke, drink, you eat, well, _reasonably_ well…it just happened. And we don't know that he won't have grown by the time they see us next." He already felt Mac shaking her head.

"But…the stress…"

"Well, that's not your fault either. Who could blame you for being stressed out about everything that's happened in the last year? And, Mac…I know I've been responsible for a lot of that stress, so if anything, you should be blaming—"

Mac abruptly lifted her head from Harm's shoulder and pushed away from him. _"You? _Harm, _none _of this is your doing. My decisions led to this…I've told you before…I make bad choices. There are years of bad choices that brought us here. Choices made by _me!"_

"Mac, Mac…no…_no." _

"Harm—"

"Stop, Mac…look, I'll keep trying to convince you that you aren't responsible for every bad thing that has happened to you, me, Webb, your parents, the extinction of the dinosaurs that made those footprints out in Arizona…but I think you really _should_ talk to someone about this." He tried to pull Mac closer to him, but she remained tense on his lap.

"Harm, you know I can't do that."

"I don't mean Paraguay…I mean…well, I'm sure your childhood has a lot to do with how you tend to blame yourself for so much…and maybe…well maybe it could still help you deal with Paraguay in some way." He let his large hand gently stroke up and down her back again, hoping she would relax, and finally, ever so slowly she sank back into him. She was silent for a long while though, and he felt a twinge of guilt that he'd likely added to her distress. Once again, though, she surprised him.

"I…I've always been hesitant to do that, but I've considered counseling many times, really I have, but then changed my mind, or chickened out. This time, though…you're right, Harm…I should talk to someone. I want to, no, I _need _to be completely healthy now…I mean...we're having a baby, Harm. I don't want to let Harmon Jason Rabb, III down! And I don't want to let you down."

Harm smiled in the darkness. He suspected Mac was going to win in the baby name department, but he supposed he could live with it. He kissed her forehead and wrapped her more firmly in his embrace. "Mac, sweetheart, you could never let me down."

* * *

Mac was dozing, caught in the middle between sleep and full awareness. She felt warm and oh-so-comfortable, and as she began to wake up, she knew it was because she still cuddled up in Harm's lap. She snuggled into him, her hand sliding up his chest to cup his cheek, and then it hit her what time it was. "Harm!" she cried as she scrambled off his lap and then leaned down to shake him. He had obviously been asleep as well and he jumped, startled when she called his name again.

"Wha—"

"Harm, get up! It's after nine. You gotta get to work!" Harm started to rise as well, but then suddenly relaxed back into the chair.

"Harm? Did you not understand what I said?" She yelped when he reached for her and pulled her back down on his lap. He nuzzled her hair with his nose and she wanted to smack him for his casual attitude.

"Yeah, I did, Mac," he answered, his eyes fluttering shut again. "I took the day off."

"You did?"

"Yup. Took next Thursday and Friday off too."

"Why?" Mac was confused. She'd appreciated that he had come home early yesterday, but she figured he wouldn't want to prolong his time there by taking any leave now.

"Because I wanted to. I have a few things I want to take care of. And, since we have your next ultrasound on Wednesday afternoon, for which I'm already off of course, I want to be there for you afterwards in case you need to have the baby then."

Mac's heart sped up a bit at the thought of having to deliver her son so early, but she was glad Harm had planned ahead a little. "Oh…thanks."

"And Mac, the number one reason I took the time off was that I miss you too."

"Oh," she said again, and Harm grinned.

"Just 'oh'?"

"Yeah…no, I mean, thank you, Harm. I—I m-miss y-you t-too." To Mac's chagrin, she'd started to cry.

"Mac, baby, what's the matter…oh, honey, don't cry…" He wiped the tears from her cheeks as fast as they fell, and Mac felt horribly embarrassed. Truthfully, she had no idea why she'd just started the waterworks again. When she could speak again, she was quick to reassure Harm that she was okay, was happy he was going to spend some extra time with her, and was glad she would have a break from the loneliness.

"Really, Harm, don't worry about this…hormones, you know…" Eventually, Harm accepted her explanation and just wiped the remainder of her tears away before kissing her hair. They sat there together for another several minutes, then Harm sent her to the shower while he worked on breakfast.

* * *

"I don't have anything ready."

Harm looked up from his mushroom omelet at the sound of Mac's voice. "What was that, Mac?"

Mac bit her lip and fixed her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder. "Um, I don't…I don't have anything ready. For the baby. I'm sorry."

Harm's expression grew tender. "Sweetheart…that's okay. We'll get it all figured out. He won't need much right at first anyway. Just some diapers, some sort of crib, clothes, and maybe some bottles." He watched as a blush crept up her cheeks.

"Um…I plan to breastfeed…but I don't even have diapers, much less a crib. Harm, I'm sorry I'm not more prepared for this."

"It's okay, Mac," he tried to reassure her.

"No…other women…they'd have the whole nursery set up. They'd have clothes…diapers…everything…but not me. I spent all that time in Montana worried about what I would tell you, how I would find you, how I was going to get through this if I had to do it alone…well, I guess we know now how I'd do on my own…terribly."

Harm watched as Mac dejectedly hung her head and his heart clenched in sympathy. He had no doubt that thoughts of what she hadn't yet done were what had driven her from their bed early this morning. He was sure it had all snowballed from there; not having a few basics yet had eventually translated in her believing she was going to be a bad mother. Slowly he rose from his chair and went around the table to kneel down beside her. He ran his big hand over her hair, then took both of her hands in his.

"Mac, honey…please don't worry about this or beat yourself up over any of this. We will have what we need when we need it. If you want, we can do some shopping today, or we can look at some things online, and when we get back to Montana and into our new house, we can make sure Jace has about a thousand things more than he needs, okay?" Harm smiled hopefully up at her and was pleased when she smiled back. Her smile was short-lived however; within seconds it had turned into a frown, complete with wrinkled forehead and skepticism in her eyes.

"Mac, what—"

"You said our 'new' house…you didn't go and buy something did you? And who's Jace?"

At that, Harm's grin widened, and Mac stared back at him wide-eyed. "No, babe…not yet…but that is something I'd like to discuss with you." He then laid a hand on Mac's rounded belly. "And this is Jace." One of Mac's delicate eyebrows rose up and Harm chuckled.

"As soon as you started threatening to name our baby Harmon, I started thinking of what else to call him. I mean, didn't you once tell me that one Harmon Rabb in your life was enough?" He was pleased when she chuckled softly. "I figured maybe we could call him Jace…short for Jason, poor Harm the third's middle name."

Mac appeared to think about it for a while, saying the name a couple of times, testing how it felt on her tongue, and then she nodded. "Jace," she said again. "I like it."

"Great! See, we've got a name now for him. Everything else will be easy." Harm stood up and held his hand out to her. As soon as she was on her feet again, he pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.

"I love you, Mac," he said after a few moments, and he felt her hold tighten around him.

"I love you too."

* * *

_End Chapter 33_


End file.
